Why They Call It Falling
by D. M. Evans
Summary: On a routine mission to the AmestrisianDrachmaian border, things go very wrong
1. Chapter 1

Why They Call It Falling

Shades of Grey Series #3 - Shade Fog

D M Evans

Disclaimer - not mine, all characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa et al, Square Enix and funimition. I don't make a profit, heck I probably lose money taking away time I should have been working.

Pairing - Roy/Riza

rating - FRM (for violence and sexual situations)

Time Line - Several months post Ishbalan war and is my own special blend of anime and manga verse

Summary - On a routine mission to check out a problem on the border of Drachma and Amestris something goes very wrong

Author's Note - Thanks to SJ for the beta AND for Christopher Aurin's name and his first poem. This is written for the colorific challenge and is the third in the series. You don't need to read the other three to understand this one. It does build off the history I created for Mustang (though that doesn't much come into play in this story).

Story #1 - The Roots of Violence

Story #2 - Ashes and Bone

Chapter One

Light glinted maliciously off glass. "What are you going to do about it?"

Roy's lip wanted to curl but he kept his mask in place. "Call."

His taunter's eyes gleamed behind his glasses as he laid down his cards as the train whined going up another steep hill.

"Damn it!" Sergeant Dinwiddie slapped his cards down on the little tray passing as a card table, between the two bench seats.

"Glad I folded," Lieutenant Swackhammer said, leaning back against the worn seat cushion.

"Come on, Roy, show your hand," Hughes urged, his hand hovering over the pot.

Roy laid out his hand, slow and deliberate. Hughes' grin crumbled seeing he was beaten. Roy's mask cracked slightly as he swept the money towards him.

"I hate you," Hughes grumbled.

Roy just cocked up an eyebrow at his friend, his lips quirking. He leaned over and looked at the only other soldier in the train car. Her face was shielded in part by the book she had her nose in. Her honey-wheat hair was piled atop her head casually. He liked it. She had caught his eye from the moment she had been assigned to his company soon after he had returned in so-called triumph from Ishbal.

Newly promoted to Lieutenant Colonel, he had been given a staff, only the best for him so they said. The military made a spectacle of him, one of the youngest Lieutenant Colonel's ever and he despised every moment of it. He didn't deserved to be praised for what he had done in the desert. The military didn't care for his opinions on the matter, not that he shared them with anyone but Hughes. The military was about its image and being young, handsome and powerful, he was good for it, so he got his office and his staff.

Cool, efficient, and deadly with a gun, Hawkeye would certainly be an asset to his team. Moreover, the longer she was around, the more she crowded into his thoughts. Roy didn't know why since she hardly ever spoke to him outside of business. Still, he'd catch her watching him with those beautiful brown eyes. He almost wished she wouldn't because he couldn't read the thoughts behind them. Worse, the air of mystery made Hawkeye more alluring and that was the last thing he needed in a junior officer.

"Join us, Lt," he invited.

Hawkeye looked up from her book. "Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel, but I'm fine."

"Are you sure? It's like taking candy from babies." Roy smiled, gesturing to his card-playing companions.

"Hey!" Hughes protested, shuffling.

"Really, sir, I'm fine as is," Hawkeye said and turned back to her book.

"I don't think she likes me," Roy said softly to Hughes.

"I can't see how that would be unless she actually knows you." Hughes smirked and Roy's eyes slotted.

"Or heard of your reputation, sir," Dinwiddie added.

"He's got you there," Hughes grinned and started dealing.

"I protest this sullying of my good name." Roy pouted, noticing a hint of a smile on Hawkeye's face. She was listening at least and he couldn't decide if that was good or bad. Probably bad.

Roy tried to put her out of mind. It didn't bear thinking on. A junior officer was strictly off limits. It was the fast track to dishonorable discharge. He had no problems getting more than enough civilian sex that he didn't need to put his career in danger. Roy's eyes flicked to his cards, a truly crappy hand. He needed to get back in the game and bluff but his head wasn't in it. Forbidden fruit danced in his mind's eye. He couldn't help the stray sexual fantasy about Hawkeye. Certainly any man looking at those lush curves would indulge in a thought or two. What interested Roy more was the sheer volume of non-sexual thoughts that percolated through his mind about her. Those were far more dangerous than the idle desire to dip inside her and see how she tasted.

"Fold, he muttered, giving up before his distraction cost him. Maes' eyebrows twitched. Roy knew his friend had picked up on his distraction. The man's eyes flicked over to Hawkeye and for a moment Maes' carefree demeanor fizzled away, replaced with a grimness. It was only momentary and then the perkiness returned.

Roy knew Maes wore his goofy skin like armor. No one could really know what lay behind the smile except for his closest friends. Maes traded on being underestimated. Roy doubted anyone but him knew of the knives Hughes had hidden on his person. Maes' shield was a bubbling disarming personality. Roy used brash arrogance mixed with just the right amount of laziness - both of which sadly came naturally to him - as ways to make others underestimate him as he slowly scaled his way higher.

"Knew your luck wouldn't last," Swackhammer chortled as Roy put his cards face down on the tray.

"Can't win them all." Roy shrugged. "Deal me out."

"You sure?" Maes asked, surprised

"I'm sure." Roy slipped away from the tray of cards and sat across from Hawkeye. Hughes' look went dark again. Roy ignored him expertly, taking a glance at what Hawkeye was reading.

"_And she appears before me like the sun,_ _Turning all my thoughts and memories to ash_," Roy quoted.

Hawkeye lifted her gaze up from the book, her eyes studying him curiously. "You know Christopher Aurin's poetry?"

Roy's eyes flicked over at the men wrapped back up in their game then he leaned forward a bit, a smile on his face. "Don't let it get out but I like literature."

Hawkeye made a noncommital noise, pushing back in her seat. Roy took that as his cue to sit back. He knew what she was thinking. 'Was this a line to seduce her, a little poetry to ease his way into her pants,' and the truth was he had done it before with many others. "I wouldn't have thought that, sir."

Roy mentally poked at that statement, wondering if it was flat out disrespect, disbelief or disinterest. Whatever it was, Roy was more persistent than to let it bother him. "Really, how so?"

Hawkeye put the book in her lap with a little sigh as if he were a burden set on her shoulders. "I suppose I never thought much about what you do off duty, including your reading habits, sir."

Roy tried not to flinch. That was a little painful to his ego. "I have a wide range of interests and apparently you do as well." Roy gestured to the book. "Somehow I didn't picture you reading poetry either."

"Too lady like for me? Her lips tightened slightly as if that were an old criticism that still had the power to hurt.

"No, that's not it. I just don't know anything about you. I would like to though," Roy replied.

Her eyes narrowed. "You think that would be proper?"

He paused for a moment, debating if he should push further. "I'm not looking for anything too personal, Hawkeye. I know something about the likes and dislikes of everyone in my immediate command. It enables me to anticipate what the team needs and what they'll do in certain situations," Roy replied but Hawkeye didn't seem entirely convinced of it. He leaned closer to her. "For instance, and he'll kill me for saying it, but Hughes likes to cook and he's damn good at it." Hawkeye's lips flicked up hinting at a scintilla of a smile. "Dinwiddie likes to run. He runs at least ten kilometers every day unless he's on a mission. Swackhammer likes animals so much he's willing to pay to live off base so he can have his cats and dogs."

Hawkeye smiled openly at that. "And you, sir, do they know anything about you?"

"A little. The commander does need to keep a certain amount of distance but they know I like the occasional game of chance." He waved a hand at the other soldiers. "I like chess and I'm rather good at it. And," he paused to move closer. "What they don't know." He pointed again to Hughes and the others. "I enjoy theater."

The look of disbelief strengthened. Hawkeye had the air of a woman who suspected she was being toyed with. "Really?"

"Very much so." Roy made a face, wishing he hadn't brought it up because now he simply wanted to take her to the theater and that was something he couldn't do. He could never been seen with this woman in public in a non-military situation. He couldn't screw up his plans just because he found her to be attractive and wanted to know more about her. Still, looking in her eyes was like free falling from a cliff. It frightened him. Hearts weren't supposed to betray their owners like this. _How do you fall for someone you don't even really know? Maes would have some sappy, romantic explanation, after he's done kicking your ass for even thinking it._

"Roses," Hawkeye mumbled, a hint of said coloring touching her cheeks.

Roy blinked "What?"

She closed the distance between them and whispered. "I love flowers and I try to grow roses around my base apartment. I just tell everyone they were there when I moved in." Hawkeye sat back and her eyes narrowed. "And if you tell them, sir, I'll be forced to shoot you."

Roy laughed. "Understood. It's safe with me." Roy felt Maes' eyes on him. He'd be getting a talking to later but compared to some of the other lectures he had endured in recent months, this wouldn't be do bad. Mostly Hughes' lectures were born out of Roy's self-destructive behavior of late.

When the friends had gotten back together upon Roy's so-called triumphant return from Ishbal, Maes was shocked at the change in Mustang. Roy found himself so unable to cope with the things he had done, he had started hiding in a bottle. Even now he found himself wanting whiskey to wash his sins away. After one too many times of calling up Maes in the middle of the night to come get him from the hellhole bars or hotels he had dropped himself into, Maes told him exactly what he thought of Roy treating himself like a cheap whoreThe fight that broke out after that was worst than the one when Maes found him hung over, surrounded by carcasses of animals he had tried to bring back, transmutation arrays painted on the apartment floor.

Human transformation had seemed a way to pay back his debts from the desert. Roy had to undo what he had done to that poor boy, to the Rockbells. He couldn't give back anything to the Ishbalans as a whole but those three people, maybe. He knew the risks of what would happen if he was exposed for trying the forbidden alchemy and didn't care. Even when it became clear he would have to die in equivalent exchange, he still forged on, desperate at least to bring back the doctors who had done nothing but try to help. Hughes' intervention had brought home that it just wasn't going to work, which only served to make his drinking worse until the blow up between friends just days before this mission.

Maes was still pretty pissed at him and he wasn't helping matters by flirting with Hawkeye. Roy knew he didn't have many friends and he should treat Maes better but the ugliness left in his soul from Ishbal had begun to rot him. One hit infected wounds with alcohol, so why not an infected mind? _Because you wake up, naked and sore, still reeking from smoke and sex and booze, frightened at what you've done and you wake up your best friend to come to some horrible dump of a hooker hotel to get you because you're too drunk to even walk home if you could find your pants in the first place. _Maes probably saw this flirtation on the train as yet another way of Roy hurting himself and he probably wouldn't be wrong. _Still, he could have been a little nicer. _Roy pouted suddenly at the thought. He still had bruised ribs from Maes knocking sense into him.

Roy's eyes flicked over to the card game. "You sure you don't want to join us, Hawkeye? We still have a few hours before we reach Buichail."

Hawkeye sighed a little. "All right."

"Deal us both in next hand, guys," Roy said. He caught the look in Maes' hazel-gold eyes and knew he'd be in for it later.

X X X

Riza looked over her cards at the irritated faces of her fellow officers. Only Hughes and Mustang looked amused. She had, of course, neglected to mention she was very good at this card game. What was she even doing playing with them? Well, there was probably no harm in a game with all of them. There had been far more danger in the private conversation she had been having with Mustang. What was she thinking allowing him to engage her like that?

Did he know she watched him from the corners of her eyes? Did he know that she had agreed to this game just to make him stop talking to her privately because she didn't know if she could stop herself from asking him all the questions she'd been dying to ask ever since being assigned to him? She wanted to know all the things he didn't allow to show. Riza sensed there were depths to him beyond what she saw at the office. Hell, no one could be that shallow and arrogant, right?

And the real mystery of her desire came in at that point. She hated arrogance. She hated womanizers. Mustang was supposed to be both and yet she couldn't get him out of her head. The warm tingle in parts best not thought about didn't come as a surprise. Mustang was attractive, especially with those exotic jet eyes of his. He reminded her of a cat she once had, all liquid and languid, rousing himself when he felt like it and not before. There was something sexual in the way Mustang carried himself, in his mannerisms. She noticed it - most women around the office did - but that was easy enough to ignore. Little fantasies were just that, dreams. It was the desire to know him better that bothered her.

Riza picked up her cards, keeping her face placid. She'd win this hand, too. Long ago she had made herself a promise to not fall for her commanding officers. There was a reason they were forbidden fruit. She would not let a man in command of her use her and toss her aside when he was done. She had seen that happen to various friends over the years. She would not be that weak, that foolish. She would have no one saying she slept her way to the top. She was not cheap and she'd be damned if she acted that way. Riza wanted her skills to be the only thing people remembered about her. If that meant she had to terrorize a few men until they took her seriously, so be it. Besides, that was half the fun.

Riza tossed in a few coins into the pot, noticing those beautiful black eyes watching her. A smile seemed to be hiding in the delicate features of his face. _Men shouldn't be pretty like that. They should be rugged and handsome. You like rugged, not something that looks like a Xing doll brought to life._ Her mind was not particularly successful in convincing any other part of her of this, especially parts that had been ignored for a little too long. _Great, you're on a long mission with four men and all you're thinking about is sex. This is going to be rough._

Riza laid down her cards triumphantly. Mustang smirked at her and promptly beat her fantastic hand much to the groans of the others. Okay, so maybe she could hate him just a little, too. Did he have to look so damn smug?


	2. Betrayal

Chapter Two

"These accommodations are..." Roy trailed off, looking around the little room with its peeling wallpaper and layers of mold in the corners of the ceiling and flooring. He grimaced.

"Frightening. Well, we are on a recon mission in a border town," Maes said, wiping his glasses as if that would make the room look less dingy. "Who set up this missing?"

"Gran, but you know he didn't make arrangements for anything." Roy set his duffle on the twin bed nearest the window and glanced back at Maes, thinking his friend looked wrong out of his military blues. None of them had worn uniforms on since leaving Central since it didn't pay to advertise when one was checking the safety of the border. At least Drachma, just to the north, had a peace agreement with them. Roy jumped back, seeing a bug scuttling across the floor. His mind leapt back to growing up in Satie in that rotting house of his father's. "Damn, that thing was big enough to carry us off."

"Well, your little body at any rate." Maes smirked, glancing up from his unpacking.

"Screw you." Roy sat on the sagging bed. "At least when I'm fitting comfortably on this sad bed, your legs will be hanging over the footboard of yours." He gestured at the barely painted iron footboard.

Maes made a face. "As if sharing a room isn't bad enough, I get stuck with you."

"You're my best friend," Roy pointed out, opening his duffle to dig out the toiletries. He needed to wash up after the long train ride. "How did that happen?"

"I ask myself that daily. When do we get started?" Maes stretched, his eyelids looking heavy behind his glasses.

"Not until dawn. We should get some sleep. Damn, I'm the commander. I should at least get the single room," Roy groused.

"You're the one who brought a female officer along. So long as it's not in the field, you know the rules, no sharing rooms with them. This dump only had three open rooms, as frightening as that is. Don't bitch. You could be stuck with Dinwiddie instead, having to hear him doing all those calisthenics that he loves."

"No, instead I'll get to hear all about your new girlfriend all night long." Roy grabbed up his toiletry bag, wondering what condition the communal bathroom was in.

"Gracia's a great gal." Maes beamed then it faded fast. "But I thought we'd talk about your new girlfriend."

Roy's lips pinched. "I don't have one."

"Like hell. I know you well enough to know that look," Maes said, his eyes dark behind his glasses, his voice taut.

"Well, I'll give you time to work on the lecture. I need a shower." Roy muscled past his friend.

Maes let him go. Roy hiked down the poorly lit hallway to the communal bathroom. It was empty. He locked the door and reluctantly stripped. He rooted past the raw chemicals in his kit, basic stuff that he kept in case he needed to do other alchemy other than fire. He found the special soap Jenna made for him. Care packages from the Ravensdale wouldn't be complete with out herb ridden, goats' milk soap.

Roy didn't want to put his feet in the rust-stained tin tub. The shower head spat orange water on him. Everything about this place reminded Roy of home; the cold water, the mildew like ribbons along the tub, the cracked tiling. He expected his father to yank open the curtain and try to sell him to a brothel again. He didn't even know if the elder Mustang was still alive and more importantly didn't care.

Roy had no intentions of dallying in the shower but when spider dropped down from the ceiling on a web, he quit the shower in a hurry. The floor mat squished under foot and he shoved his feet into his shoes while still wet just to get off the floor. He dried off, his wet hair sticking up at odd angles. Roy didn't even bother pulling his shirt back on. He just wanted out of the dank hotel bathroom. He startled when he opened the door and Hawkeye was standing there.

She jumped back. "Sorry, sir. I was just about to knock." Her eyes descending momentarily to his bare chest then snapped back up.

"It's really rather...miserable." He pressed his towel to his chest. "I do apologize."

"No one promised our jobs would be easy, sir," Hawkeye replied, in an all business tone.

Roy nodded. "There's a huge spider in the shower, just so you know."

Hawkeye shuddered. "Lovely."

"Quick, too. Missed killing him," Roy said, even though he hadn't tried. Retreat had seemed a better option when faced with the eight legged menace, especially when it was nearly as big as his hand.

"I hate spiders," she grumbled.

"The water's already cold, or maybe it was never hot." Roy sighed. "Sorry. Good night, Lieutenant."

She sighed as well. "Good night, sir."

Roy started back down the hall to his awaiting lecture. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Hawkeye studying his back. He grinned when she blushed at getting caught and ducked into the bathroom. _Oh yes, she's interested...and that's not a good thing. Damn it._ Roy understood the importance of the no fraternization rule. It was there to keep unscrupulous people from abusing those below them but it wasn't just inconvenient sometimes. Sometimes it downright hurt, like now.

Roy went back into his room and saw Maes was already trying to curl up in his little bed. His knives hung from their leather sheaths from the knob on the end table. He hoped Maes had already nodded off but the squinting eyes said otherwise. Maes fumbled for his glasses, settling them back on his long nose. Roy pointedly said nothing, setting down his stuff, then peeling back the thin, dingy bedding. At least it looked relatively clean. He crawled into bed and tried to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress.

"Just what do you think you're doing, Roy?" Maes' tone had the expected bite. Roy was hoping his friend would have changed his mind about having this conversation but apparently not.

"Nothing," Roy mumbled, wondering if he rolled over and faced the window Maes would take the hint and not hector him about Riza.

"It didn't look like nothing today on the train."

"I just wanted to talk to Hawkeye. She seemed left out," Roy said, knowing there was nothing he could really do shy of ordering Maes to shut up to avoid this and he respected his friend too much for that. He knew Maes only had his best interests at heart. Besides Hughes would ignore the order anyhow.

"Roy, you can't afford to get involved with this woman. There're more than enough women out there for you to pass on Hawkeye." Maes rolled up onto his elbow, looking across the room at Roy.

Roy huddled up on his side, not really looking at Maes. "It's not like that, Maes. I know better. I know exactly what you're talking about. I'm not looking to start up a sexual relationship with Riza."

"You're calling her by her first name," Maes pointed out.

Roy tossed an arm over his eyes. "Talk to me about Gracia, Maes."

"I'm not that easily distracted, Roy." Maes sounded utterly irritated as the bed groaned and rattled as he shifted his weight on it.

"You remember telling me how it felt when you first met Gracia, like you were gliding right over the edge," Roy muttered.

"And you laughed at me and said I was a romantic fool. What does that have to do...oh." Maes sat up, swinging his long legs off his bed.

Roy let his arm drop. "I'm in free fall and it's really going to hurt when I hit."

Hughes leaned forward, hands on his knees. "How did this happen?"

Roy wouldn't look at him. He concentrated on a patch of mildew near the ceiling. "Like I know. I've never felt like this and you'd know it would be the one woman in the world I can't...this isn't fair," Roy growled.

"Well...you'll think of something," Maes said, doubtfully.

Roy snorted bitterly. "Maybe I'll get lucky and the mission will chew me up and I won't have to worry about it."

"Do we need to have another conversation about the suicidal talk, Roy?" Maes' voice went gruff. He stood up and took a step closer to Roy who held up a staying hand.

Roy just shook his head. He wasn't going to put his friend through that pain again. "I'm good, just talking stupid."

"Anyone who believes that, stand on their heads," Maes muttered, having been through enough bad moments in the last year to buy into Roy's line of garbage. He knew just how torn up on the inside Mustang still was. "You do something foolish out there, Roy, and live, I'll kick your ass all the way back to Central."

Roy smiled in spite of himself. "Thanks, Maes."

Maes laid back down on his dilapidated bed. "So, how discreet do you think you can be?"

"If I have any plans of acting on this feeling, more discreet than I've ever been in my life." Roy turned toward the window just in case Maes could see the fear in his face.

X X X

_A coffin, my room is a coffin_, Riza swore she could reach out and touch any of the four walls from her bed. On one hand there would be no other soldier snoring in her ear, but on the other the place was making her claustrophobic. To top it all off, not only was the bathroom as disgusting as Mustang had said, he had caught her checking out his butt. How, embarrassing and what was worse, she was laying here, thinking about the tight, tiny thing.

_He's too skinny. You don't like rib-racks. _Various body parts weren't listening to her brain, feeling swollen and warm at the memory of him. Deciding he wasn't her type didn't help, nor did thoughts of his arrogance or his rank. This was insane. She was not about to ruin her career over one exotic slip of a man. When they got back to Central, she'd request a transfer. That would take care of that.

Riza rolled onto her side and covered her head. Sounds of snoring from next door seemed to rattle her little room. So much for no soldier snoring in her ear. She was never going to sleep with that going on, not to mention the chaos in her head. Maybe she should just get up and pass the hours until dawn, cleaning her weapons or something. Instead her mind drifted back to that egotistical little smile he had shot her over his shoulder. She was going to need another cold, spider-infested shower if her traitorous body didn't shape up. Giving up fighting it, Riza grunted at herself and slid her hand down under the covers and below the waist line.

X X X

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Womack looked at the tall woman before him.

She pushed back her long hair from her face. "Let's just say that's the way it has to be."

His pale eyes narrowed, unsure why someone from Amestris' military would want to help him. "So what do you care about Drachmaian supremacy? It's your people we want to conquer. Why on earth would you help us?"

"Oh, this has nothing to do with your little faction's quest, Womack, and everything to do with being fair. Your target has betrayed us but if we take him out, there'll be questions we don't want to answer. If he gets killed here, there won't be any questions. He died in the line of duty. Besides, he knows things that will help your faction, and I don't care if you learn about them," she replied. "Feel free to torture it out of him."

Womack's thin lips twisted. "Sounds good to me but I still don't trust you."

"I don't expect you to, just do your job and we'll all be happy."

She watched the Drachmaian rebel leave, clutching the photo of his target. Regiene shook her head. What an idiot but at least the fool would serve a purpose. Anyone who believed his enemy would help him to attack them deserved whatever he got. His little faction had no prayer since not only would the military crush them, Drachma itself was content with its cease fire with Amestris and was enjoying the trade. Drachma would put down the rebels themselves. So long as they took out the target, she didn't care what happened to them.

She picked up the phone, and absently gave her silver pocket watch a polishing while she waited to be connected. "General, it's Cerulean. It's all set up. They'll be waiting for the target near the canyon. What about the collateral damage? Oh, I'm sure killing them all will prove to be no problem for this crew. I'll head back for Central immediately, sir, unless you want me to remain and take care of the rebels...oh, good, glad to hear it, sir. I have no love for this back water. I'll be on the next train."

X X X

"So what are we looking for, Colonel, sir?" Swackhammer looked over the back of the car seat at Mustang who sat in the back with Hughes. Poor Hawkeye was sandwiched in between them, stuck on the hump.

Mustang didn't know who had arranged this mission but they were going to regret this poor planning when he got back to Central. They could have at least reserved a truck. "Signs that someone is using these canyons to run contraband between Amestris and Drachma. There have been reports of it and it threatens the peace."

"I think we might have to get out and look around, sir. It's hard to see subtle signs from the car," Dinwiddie offered as he drove on, downshifting as the grade of the hill worsened.

"I know. We're in completely the wrong vehicle for this," Mustang grumbled. "We need to get off road."

"Lovely, a hike," Hughes sighed. "I'm still wondering why we were selected for this duty."

"It does seem odd," Mustang agreed, wishing he could think of something besides the heat of Hawkeye's thigh against his as they were crushed into the back seat.

"How so, sir?" Hawkeye asked.

"This is not my usual duty," Roy replied, peering out the window at the frosted ground. It was going to be cold and miserable looking around out there for clues. "I don't usually..."

The whine of artillery cut the early morning air and all any of them were aware of was the car rolling, whirling like a child's toy off the road and cutting a swatch down the embankment. Roy cried out as Hawkeye and Hughes' weight slammed him into the side of the car. Fire licked inside him as his breath tore away and then he was falling on top of his companions as the car went over again.

Moans filled the car as it finally came to rest on all four wheels. Mustang managed to get the door open and slipped outside. He helped Hawkeye out. Hughes bailed out the other side. Roy touched Hawkeye's head. She had a cut above her eye, blood pouring freely. Head wounds bled so much.

"You okay?" he managed to rasp out, pulling a glove out of his civilian pant's pocket. He might be out of uniform but he still had his weapons. She nodded, feeling for her guns. Roy peeked inside. Dinwiddie had a few inches of steering wheel inside his chest. There was no sense in checking if he was alive. Swackhammer hadn't faired much better but Hughes was pulling him out of the car. Roy smelled the smoke and tried to lead Hawkeye away before the car went up.

Gun shots whistled and the frosted grass parted near Roy's foot. He jumped back, dragging Riza with him behind the tree line.

"Who's shooting?" She tried to wipe the blood from her eye.

"There." Roy nodded toward the road. Three damn trucks, his men were screwed. He had no idea who these insurgents were, probably the contraband runners. He and his men were seriously out gunned and out manned, with one exception. He'd bet they had no idea what he was. Roy's eyes narrowed, hearing a scream through the hail of gun fire.

Swackhammer fell away from Hughes. The major didn't hesitate, apparently knowing the man was dead. Hughes sprinted for cover. Roy bellowed wordlessly, stepping out from behind his cover when Hughes went down. He could hear his friend's moans of pain and had no idea how badly Maes was hurt. Roy eyed the trucks and the men between the wreck of their vehicle and those trucks. He snapped his fingers.

The heat of his alchemy felt even more intense in the cold morning. Fog rose off the grass as the air above it oxidized. Two of the trucks caught fire. Roy heard Hawkeye gasp and realized she had never seen what he could do.

"Shoot the damn alchemist then secure our target!" one of their attackers screamed.

Hawkeye's guns barked in Roy's ears as more bullets came his way. Something felt hot but he ignored it, snapping his fingers again but he couldn't cut Hughes off from their attackers, not without hurting his friend. There were still too many of the enemy for Hawkeye's guns to get them all and those his flames didn't get had a lot more ammo than he and Hawkeye had. They had the soldiers pinned down and all Roy could do was watch them drag Hughes into the remaining truck.

"Sir, we have to get to better cover," Hawkeye said, pulling on his arm.

He moved, following her deeper into the woods, knowing their attackers hadn't all gotten back into the truck. Until he and Hawkeye turned the tables, they were prey at least. He had to get one of them alive. He had to find out where they had taken his friend. "Give me one of your guns," he said to her.

Hawkeye paused and stooped, pulling a yet unused one from an ankle holster. She kept the two bigger ones for herself. They continued moving, keeping parallel with the road. Hawkeye said nothing but Roy knew she had to be hurting because he was. Maybe something had been broken in the car accident. Suddenly Hawkeye whipped around and Roy followed suit. Their attackers had caught up with them. Hawkeye killed one instantly.

"We need them alive, Lieutenant," Mustang barked, shooting one in the leg.

Hawkeye did the same then looked to Mustang to see what was next.

Mustang handed her back the gun and put his fingers together. "Now you two are going to tell me where you took my friend or you'll find out just why they call me Flame."

"Go to hell, freak," one of them growled and shot his wounded partner. He turned his gun on himself before Roy could stop him.

"Son of a bitch!" Roy kicked the man's corpse.

"Sir, you need to sit," Hawkeye said.

"There's no time for that. They have Hughes," Roy growled, looking at the two men. He noticed they both had badges on their shirts, a white shield with ten red stars. He'd never seen the like before but he knew a device to show fellowship when he saw it.

"Sir, I think you were shot," Hawkeye pointed to the bloody furrow along his side.

The heat he had felt, Roy mused, lifting his sticky shirt. The wound didn't hurt all that much.

Hawkeye forced him down then knelt at his side. "It's not deep, barely a scratch."

"Doesn't hurt much. Bind it up the best you can, Lieutenant and I'll see to that cut on your head," Roy said, hating to waste the time but what was there to do for it?

"Who were they, sir?"

"I have no idea, Hawkeye, but I'm going to find out and make sure they regret this," Roy said through gritted teeth.


	3. Tension

Chapter Three

After he finally came to, Hughes didn't know where he was for several long moments. Everything hurt. He felt like one big bruise. He couldn't feel his hands and only wished he could say the same thing about his leg. It felt like Mustang had worked alchemy on it, fire licking from mid-thigh to knee.

He tried to focus on where he was but his glasses were either missing or taken. Hughes cursed his poor eyes. He concentrated for a moment and heard breathing. He wasn't alone. Hughes scanned around and picked out a largest blob. He squinted, trying to bring the person into focus and failing.

"What am I doing here?" He figured he'd get a better shot at an answer with that than with 'who are you?'

"All in due time," the blob said, doing something Hughes couldn't see but he heard the clink of metal on metal.

"I'd appreciate being untied," Hughes said, giving the bonds at his wrists an experimental tug.

The blob laughed. "I'm sure you would, traitor."

"Traitor?" Hughes couldn't help but blurt that out. He had no idea what was going on but it was taking a turn for the worse. "I don't even know who you are. How could I betray you?"

"Not me. Your own people turned you over for crimes against them and the good kingdom of Drachma."

"I think you have the wrong man. I'm not a criminal and neither were any of my companions," Hughes said, trying to keep his voice even. He didn't want to let on how much pain he was in nor how worried he was about Mustang and Hawkeye. At least Mustang might have gotten away from these kidnappers who surely had to have mistaken him for the lieutenant colonel, though he wasn't sure why.

"That's not what we've been told."

"By whom?" Hughes shifted his weight then hissed as the pain in his leg blossomed into full blown agony. The bullet had to have taken a good bite out of him.

"It's nothing you need to worry about." The blob loomed close enough for Hughes to see it was a dark-haired man. "Your precious military is done with you and now you'll tell me everything you know about the plans to raid Drachma."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Hughes licked his lips. This man knew he was military but how? Hughes realized in a sickening flash that he had been set up. "I'm not military."

Blob laughed again. "Of course you're not and you know nothing about plans to invade Drachma."

"I really don't," Hughes replied quite truthfully.

"Well, let's pretend I don't believe you and then you can have some time to rethink your answers. I have a little persuasion I think you might like." The man set something down close enough Hughes could make it out.

He stared at the car battery and everything inside him went to ice.

X X X

"Rest, Hawkeye. You probably have a concussion," Roy said, feeling more than merely terrible after the short but strenuous hike from the crash site to town. He was going to hold a grudge against hills for some time.

"Lieutenant Colonel, sir, I'll be fine," Hawkeye said, standing next to the door to their new hotel room.

Roy eyed her sourly. She looked anything but fine, pale and bloody. He had gotten into their old rooms unseen, changed his clothes and gathered up some changes of clothing for him and her along with some money and their toiletry kits since his had chemicals for alchemy if he needed it. He wanted those rooms to lay fallow; let the men who took Hughes think he and Hawkeye died in the woods. Roy had found them a slightly more upscale hotel room while Hawkeye patrolled outside the place, since her wounds were still uncleaned and her clothing bloody and he didn't want to explain how that had happened to some hotel clerk. "Then go wash up."

"Sir, shouldn't we be-"

"Yes, we should be looking for Hughes but we'll get nowhere looking like this. Or worse, if we contract a fever or an infection we'll be good to no one. Clean up. I'll call Central to let them know we came under attack and request back up," Mustang said, distaste for the odious task plain on his delicately-planed face.

Hawkeye nodded, looking suddenly weary. She put all three of her guns on the solitary bed and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. Roy placed the call. As he waited to be connected, he tried not to think about what might be happening to his friend. His eyes roamed around the room. It was far cosier than their purposes required but it was small and out of the way, a place where lovers met, clean, sweet. It was the sort of place he would have loved to have met Hawkeye in if they were anyone but who they were, in the circumstances they were under. A voice rumbled hello on the other end of the line.

"General Gran, sir, it's Mustang. We were ambushed. Dinwiddie and Swackhammer are gone. Hughes has been taken captive by unknown aggressors and I believe he was shot," Mustang reported, keeping his voice from hitching as he said that. He wouldn't allow his emotions to betray him.

"Are you or Hawkeye injured, Mustang?" Gran grumbled.

"No, sir. Hawkeye and I are banged up but nothing serious." Mustang touched the crease in his side. "I was winged by a bullet but I'll be fine."

"And you have no idea who did this?" Gran roared.

Roy held the phone away from his ear. He hated Gran and for all his loud 'concern,' Roy knew Gran didn't give a damn about him or his men. Ever since Ishbal, Gran had treated him with nothing but disdain and maybe he even deserved it. "No, sir and I'm not sure why they would take Hughes."

"They must have mistook him as the commander."

"I don't..." Roy trailed off, a nervous tickle in his belly. They hadn't been in uniform. If someone knew they were military, then they had been betrayed. He had no idea if it was by someone on his team or someone in Central. It wasn't good to tip off Gran or whoever might be listening on the line to his suspicions. "You're probably right, sir."

"Do you have any hope that Major Hughes is still alive, Mustang?"

"Yes, sir, I do. They killed Swackhammer and came after Hawkeye and I. They took care to take Hughes with them when they could have gunned him down. They mentioned a target. I'm fairly sure they wanted Hughes alive. I may need help in extricating him, sir," Roy said.

"I'll have help on the way but I may be forced to send soldiers from Central. There are no free troops in your area," Gran said, sounding suddenly slippery.

"Understood sir," Roy replied tightly, not sure he did. It sounded almost punitive to him but he couldn't say that to a superior officer "I'll be in contact."

"Where do I call you, Mustang, if I need to?" Gran asked.

"It's not safe yet to give out that number, sir. We may have to stay in the wind. I'll keep contact the best I can," Mustang replied.

"Do your best, Mustang, to not create an incident with the Drachmaians over this. I regret to say it but Major Hughes is expendable under those circumstances. We need to keep the peace." Gran didn't sound too regretful to Mustang.

Roy hated hearing it but he knew it was also true. They couldn't risk the tenuous peace with the Drachmaians. Though Amestris didn't seem to be good at keeping the peace. He and Hawkeye would have to be very careful because he'd be damned if he was leaving Hughes behind. "Understood, sir."

Roy hung up and mentally shook off the slime of talking to Gran. He sat on the bed and picked up Riza's gun. He unloaded the other two guns. When Hawkeye came out of the bathroom, he pointed the pistol at her, cocking back the hammer.

Hawkeye froze instantly, her face going even paler than it had been. The freshly formed bruises stood out starkly. "Sir?"

"You and I need to have a little chat," he said, tightly, aiming for her face.

"Is that necessary?" Hawkeye went to wave at the gun but hitched seeing Roy tensing, his finger on the trigger.

"I've two men dead, one kidnapped and it very likely was an inside job. So, yes for right now I say it is necessary, especially since I don't know enough about you by half. I've seen what you can do with a gun and on the off chance that these three aren't all your guns, you'll have to forgive me if we talk like this, Lieutenant. Now, tell me your movements last night," Mustang demanded, the gun never wavering from her head.

Hawkeye licked her lips, but otherwise didn't seem too nervous. "I have no one who can vouch for my movements, sir, after you yourself saw me go into the shower. Before then, I simply took out what I needed for the night from my rucksack, cleaned my guns then showered, sir. I didn't sleep well. Either Dinwiddie or Swackhammer were snoring. I could hear them through the wall so I had to pass several hours not sleeping."

"And you filled those hours how?" Mustang demanded to know and had to wonder what caused her to blush so violently.

"Reading, sir. It has occurred to me, as it obviously has to you, that we weren't in uniform today when we were attacked. I made no calls nor left the hotel last night. I had no opportunity to betray our position. I didn't even know the route we'd take or the vehicle we'd be in."

Roy eased down the hammer and put the gun aside. "Good point. That leaves our betrayer either dead by the car, betrayed by their own compatriots, or we were set up before we ever left Central."

"By whom, sir?" Hawkeye relaxed a little with the gun no longer trained on her.

"No idea. Gran sent us but there could be any number of breaks in the chain between him and us. Of course, it could be a case of mistaken identity but I find that highly unlikely," Roy said. "But why take Hughes and not me?"

"They wouldn't likely mistake you two," Hawkeye said, inching toward the overstuffed chair near the window. Roy waved her on and she sat down wearily. "They might have only known to go for the commander and Hughes is the oldest. They might have just assumed..." Hawkeye trailed off with a blush. "Not that you look..."

"I'm well aware I look young, Lieutenant. I am young." Roy ran a hand through his hair then winced as his side pulled.

"I should look at that wound now that I have something to clean it up with, sir," Hawkeye said, dragging back to her feet.

Roy nodded listlessly, pulling off his shirt. "We get sent on a mission to an isolated hunk of mountainous terrain outside of town, a place easy to have someone lying in wait for us. That can not be by accident."

Hawkeye went to the bathroom and wet a towel then started to cleanse off the wound better. The bullet had cut a shallow rut in his side from just left of his navel up to the lower jutting edge of his ribs. "I wouldn't imagine so. How are we going to find Major Hughes, sir?"

"Cautiously. There have been reports of insurgents in this area that don't like the peace between our countries. It could have been them. It could have been something else entirely. Our only clue is that emblem those men had. I've been instructed to leave Hughes behind if it looks like it could cause a diplomatic incident," Roy said bitterly, scrunching the bedspread up under his hands.

Hawkeye's eyes came up sharply. "Sir?"

"I have no intentions of leaving him." Roy winced as she touched a sensitive spot. His side looked like he had been splashed with violet paint. "I don't leave my men behind."

"He's more than one of your men, if you don't mind me saying. He's obviously your friend," Hawkeye remarked as she opened the med-kit he had salvaged from their room. She started bandaging him up.

"Yes, he is, the best one I've ever had, and with just the two of us, I'll trust we can be discreet in our search for him," Roy said.

"I'll settle for not giving you cause to point a weapon at me again, sir, not that you really needed it," Hawkeye mumbled.

"I couldn't be sure of that," he replied, keeping to himself he still wasn't sure. She could be a very good actress.

"No, what I meant was...how did you do that today?" She sat back, her eyes big and limpid as freshly brewed tea.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. The lines of her face were captivating. He fought to cling to his good judgement and ignore how she made him feel inside. "You know they call me the Flame Alchemist."

She nodded. "I just never gave it much thought I suppose. This is what you did in Ish-"

"No!" Mustang snapped, pulling away from her. It sounded as if she did know and was testing him to see what he was capable of doing. "I don't like talking about that time."

"Sorry, sir." A stunned expression slapped itself on her face.

Roy sighed. "It's all right. You didn't know. I can transmute the air, make it combust. I just need a spark. My gloves are specially made for that purpose. You're right. I don't need a gun. Then again, I don't want to burn this place down with me inside so a gun seemed more reasonable."

Hawkeye nodded again. "All right, sir. That should help." She taped off the bandage. "Now what?"

"Now we go out and make some discreet inquires." Roy tried to get up and slumped back down. "Just give me a few minutes to catch my breath." He hated himself for saying it. He didn't know how much time Hughes had but his body was already pushed to the limits. Hawkeye didn't look much better. Surely a few moments to recoup wouldn't be fatal.

TBC


	4. Frustration

Chapter Four

The Cerulean Alchemist looked around the train station, hating being there. There was nothing she liked about little midway towns with their handfuls of people and nothing to do. Regiene needed a city. Openness disturbed her. Her foot drummed the warped floor boards as she waited for her connection. "Basque, it's me," she said over the hum of the staticky line. She had waited on this call until she knew her lover would be home. "How's it going?"

"They manage to fail to snare the wild horse and the little bird," Gran replied, his voice vicious.

Regiene blew a wisp of her hair away from her face, not really concerned by his temper. "Well, you said, you didn't care one way or the other. Dead is good, disgraced might be better. It'll be tastier. Imagine the look on the little bastard's face when he's no longer the darling of the military."

"Yes, well hopefully our friends do manage to kill the target before our little thorn in the side finds him. Mustang and Hughes were getting too nosy about certain things and I'm fairly sure Mustang knows where the Crystal Alchemist is hiding out. He's most assuredly been in touch with Hohenheim."

Regiene's lips thinned at the mention of the powerful alchemist. "Which could be a very bad thing."

"I should have left you in place just to ensure Mustang doesn't manage to stumble onto where Hughes was taken."

She grimaced. "That might have risked him spotting me. Don't worry so much, Basque. Mustang is pretty and charismatic but he's not bright. That's why you wanted Hughes out of the way. He's the real threat."

"And Mustang has too much pull for me to have just transferred Hughes some place harmless. You're right about Mustang's face. The brass like to make sure our little hero of Ishbal is well seen by the troops and keep him well tended to," Gran said bitterly. "Rather than show him to be the coward that he is."

"While Kimblee is left rotting in that damn laboratory," Regiene growled back.

"Unfortunately, Crimson got too out of hand. Faking his execution is the best I could do at this point. Lab Five will pay off if we're patient."

"I have trouble with being patient. All right, they're boarding the train. I'll check back in at the next stop." Regiene hung up the phone and gave a moment's thought to Hughes' plight. She boarded the train, grinning broadly.

X X X

Hughes panted, barely able to think. His body trembled hard, weak from blood loss and the terrible things the man called Womack was inflicting on him. The room reeked of blood, sweat and piss. Hughes' body thrummed with the pain from the electric shocks the car battery had delivered. His pants chafed, damp with blood and urine. At this point, he had been shocked enough that he no longer had to worry about dribbling piss down his leg and into the wound. He was empty.

Womack had taken a break when Hughes had fainted. He could hear the man talking to some woman now. Hughes left his eyes screwed shut. Let them think he was still unconscious. Maybe he could learn what they thought he knew or who they were. Drachmaian insurgents, that much he surmised but what in the hell would they want of him? Did they think he was the commanding officer? If so, they must not have a photo of their intended target in that case. If he had been 'turned over' as Womack claimed, Hughes figured the least their betrayers would have said is 'the commanding officer looks half Xing, make sure to get him.'

No, after having time to think about it between screams, Hughes realized he had to be their target but why? Who had betrayed him? And what were his chances of getting out of here? He didn't know if his femur was fractured by the bullet but he didn't think he could walk. In fact, his captors were so confident he was too weak, they had unbound his wrists from each other and had them loosely tied to the bed posts. They had stretched him out on a bare mattress, for better access when it came to the torture.

"What do you mean Binney and Smith aren't back yet, Fisher?" Womack growled.

"They haven't reported in. I've not had time to go back to the site of capture, too many onlookers now. But there has been no sign of his friends at their domicile. Chances are they're dead," the woman replied dismissively.

Hughes couldn't see what she looked like but her voice was rough, like she smoked too many cigarettes and drank raw whiskey. Her words chilled him. He didn't want to think about his best friend lying dead in the woods. On the other hand, if Womack's people were missing, he would put odds that it was them lying dead and Mustang was alive. If Roy was alive, all Hughes needed to do was survive until he was rescued. He wasn't sure he liked those chances, either.

"We can't bet on it. One of them was an alchemy freak. You can't trust those monsters. In fact, our source might be wrong. The one we've been extracting information from might not be working alone. A freak would make the pair that much more dangerous. I couldn't make him tell me what they planned on doing to break our forces. I didn't think to ask him about the freak. Why don't you give it a shot, Fisher?" Womack gestured at Hughes. "I'll go check on Binney and Smith if I can."

"With pleasure." The way she purred that response made Hughes' flesh creep.

Hughes opened his eyes as Womack left. He tracked Fisher's approach the best he could with his poor sight. She got close enough that he could see her leering face and the way her walnut hair was pulled back much like Hawkeye's. "Did he get tired already?"

She grinned ferally. "Womack likes his brute strength." Fisher went to the cupboard in the room and took out a thick pillar candle. "I'm more subtle. You can spare yourself a lot of trouble if you just tell me about the freak now. I'll be honest. I'm hoping you don't."

"I can tell you he doesn't like to be called a freak," Hughes said, forcing his usual cheeriness into his voice.

Fisher laughed and came over, setting the now-lit candle on the night stand by his head. How could something usually either so utilitarian or romantic make his belly knot up fearfully? "I'll keep that in mind when he's in your place."

"I thought you decided he was already dead." Hughes summoned up a smirk.

"Ah, listening were you, naughty boy?" Fisher opened Hughes' belt buckle and yanked his pants down to his ankles.

He couldn't hold in the bellow of pain as the cloth ripped away from where it had dried onto his wound. Blood started flowing again. He could feel the warmth seeping along his skin.

"What Womack doesn't understand is some people like a little pain. Maybe you're one of them. I've met a lot of that type in my time. Are you going to tell me about the freak or do I get to have fun?" Fisher poked a finger into the bullet hole.

Hughes gasped, nearly biting his tongue again. It was sore from the times the shocks had come before he could brace for them. When he got his breath back, he said, "Guess one of us will be having fun."

"Thank you." Fisher picked up the candle. "My last boyfriend used to beg for this."

Hughes clamped his jaw shut against the howl of agony as she spilled the wax down over his freshly bared privates.

X X X

"Anyone ever tell you, you take a girl to all the nicest spots, sir?" Hawkeye eyed the pub sign adorning their third bar stop for the evening. In dark red letters, the pub name "The Quiet Woman" circled around a woman carrying her own head.

Roy rolled his shoulders. "The word around town is this pub plays host to both Drachmaians and Amestrisians. It would probably be the best place to find the rebels we're looking for."

"That's what you said about the last two bars, sir," she said wearily. She adjusted her hair clasp because her hair threatened to slip free.

His eyes narrowed. "And I keep telling you not to call me sir, Hawkeye."

"Whatever you say, Mustang." She smiled slightly. "This place is disgusting."

"We're not even inside yet. How much more disgusting can it be than the Bucket of Blood pub?" He pulled a long face. "Scratch that. I suppose any place that finds humor in decapitated women is going to be a bit rough."

"Don't worry, Mustang. I'll protect you." Her grin widened.

"That's not funny," he said, chuckling in spite of himself. Truth was, she probably was scarier looking. He had just turned twenty-one and looked about fourteen. No one took him seriously within the military or without. He looked like a child. He'd grow a beard just to look older but all he could really manage was some patchy scruff that looked like he had mange.

"Do you think they'll just be wearing those badges if they actually do hang out in places like this?" she asked quietly, hand reaching for the battered doorknob.

Roy nodded. "It probably has no meaning to anyone but them. We don't even know if they're rebels from here or across the border. Hell knows they can be hiding anywhere in these mountains but if there's one thing soldiers like to do, it's unwind when they get the chance."

"You don't have to tell me," she said, yanking the door open. A noxious cloud of tobacco smoke roiled out making her eyes smart.

Smoke layered the pub, darkening the place even more. Its few windows wouldn't let in much light in the day and at night they were just small pies of gloom. The pub didn't make a lot of use of electric lighting, thick candles thumped down haphazardly on every table. A smoky fire crackled in the enormous central fireplace. Several dart boards were in the far end and several tables had people playing dice or cards. Roy could count the women in the place on his fingers and didn't doubt everyone but the bartender was a prostitute. He glanced back at Hawkeye and saw how grim her face was. He didn't blame her. Given some of the looks even he was getting, he was feeling a little like meat for sale in this place. She didn't move off to find a place to sit and observe. Instead she stayed close to him, more for his protection he didn't doubt, than her own. Tonight had impressed him with her toughness.

Mustang pushed his way to the bar. "Two pints," he said, wondering how much they'd learn while nursing the beers before someone got suspicious of them.

"Not from around here," the bartender said, a wicked glint in her eyes as she poured beer into mugs that at least looked clean.

"Am now," he replied noncommitally.

She grunted at him, feigning disinterest. Roy handed a beer to Hawkeye and flipped a modest tip to the woman. He threaded his way to a place too near the fire for physical comfort, which was probably why the warped little table stood empty. He and Hawkeye turned their chairs a bit so they could sit and look out over the pub. Eyes were turned back their way as well. That had been a problem in their search. They were strangers and everyone in the small mountain town knew it.

Roy sipped his beer and grimaced. "They can't brew worth a damn around here," he said lowly.

Hawkeye took a taste. "It's not that bad."

Roy shrugged. "I prefer whiskey but that's not as easy to nurse and it goes to the head too damn fast."

Her eyes flicked back towards the smoky fireplace, coughing a bit. "Not the best choice of seats but I guess there aren't many options. I guess if you needed to, you could use that." She nodded at the fireplace.

Roy touched his right pocket where one glove and his watch rested. His other pocket had another glove and matches just in case. "Yes. With that I could turn this place to ash. I'm rather hoping to avoid that."

"When did you learn you could do this kind of alchemy?" she asked, her eyes on the crowd and not him.

Selfishly, he wished she'd just look at him just a little. "When I was young."

"I had heard you were the youngest to take the uh..." her eyes cut around, as she scanned to see if anyone was eavesdropping, "test."

"I am." He smiled sardonically. "For all the good it did me."

"I was there at the battles in Ishbal, too," she said softly, her eyes finally flicking towards him. She had seen him there, but never in action. She had seen the flames, of course, but never their creation. Hell she had almost killed him receiving the countermand at the last moment. She wasn't sure if she should tell him that or not, unsure if the rumors of why he had been targeted and then spared were true. "I didn't realize that it was you...I saw what some of you had done in the desert. I can understand why you don't want to talk about it."

Roy glanced at the old wood of the table. "I don't. I never thought I'd be turned into a butcher or that they would call me a hero for it. Some days it doesn't seem real. And days like today, hoping that my friend hasn't been killed for political reason, it's all too real."

"We have to believe Hughes isn't dead yet. If they wanted that, they had opportunity to do it where he fell yesterday," Hawkeye said, pretending to take a sip of beer.

"There are things worse than death," he replied grimly and her face pulled into a tight rictus.

"Hey, pretty lady, why are you wasting time with a boy? Why don't you trade up to some real men?" a thick-neck man from the next table over hooted at Hawkeye.

Hawkeye's face twisted and Roy knew she wasn't going to just shrink from that comment. He wouldn't want her to even though this was going to be a problem. "Well, when you find one, let me know so I can do that," she retorted and Roy braced for what he knew would come next. Either the idiot would shut up or there'd be a fight. So much for finding anything out here, not that he had spotted a single badge yet and it wasn't likely rebels would be talking rebellion openly.

Predictably Thick-Neck and the red-faced thug sitting with him both got up. "Who do you think you're talking to, girlie?"

"She's with me so why don't you two push off and leave us to our beers," Roy said, not really wanting to get into a fist fight but what the hell. He wasn't letting anyone talk to Hawkeye like this.

"Who's talking to you, boy?" Red-Face grabbed him, hauling Roy up.

Roy twisted, breaking free. He took Red-Face to the ground with an arm lock, leaving the much larger man whimpering and grasping for his shoulder with his free hand. "I think I'm talking to you. Now leave us alone."

"Let Elliott alone or I'll do your girl right in front of you, you slant-eyed bastard," Thick-Neck growled, lunging for Hawkeye.

She rocked back on her chair, one foot catching him in the groin and the other in the knee. He took out the table, splattering everyone with beer as he went down. "It'll take more than you to manage that," she spat at him.

Two men, who looked like they could belong to the Armstrong line, lumbered out from behind the bar. The brunette busybody pouring drinks came with them. "Elliott, Marius, what have I told you about bothering other guests?" Her voice was as sharp as a new knife. "Get out of here." The two sides of beef on either side of her dragged the wounded men towards the door to ensure they left. She leveled a button-eyed look at Mustang and Hawkeye. "You two okay?"

"Wet but fine," Roy replied, sluicing beer out of his hair.

"I'll get you more drinks on the house," she said, Roy's 'thank you' hitting into her back as she stomped back toward her haven behind the bar.

Roy set the table back up. "Maybe I should have found another angle for you to investigate, Hawkeye. Apparently the sight of a real woman is too much for some of the locals."

She flushed slightly. "Sorry to be a distraction."

"You can't help being beautiful." The words slipped out before Roy knew what he was saying. It was his turn to blush. "Sorry. I didn't mean to speak out of turn."

"It's all right, si...Mustang." She ran a hand through her beer-soaked hair.

He wondered what she must think of him. If she had any doubts after the train ride here that he was interested in her, she didn't any more. What was he thinking, flirting when Maes was probably somewhere being hurt? He was a terrible friend. Neither of them said anything even after the bartender came back with more beers.

Hawkeye's hand came down on his wrist and she nodded toward the door. He followed her gaze. A man and a woman had come in sporting the white shield with red stars on their jackets. The woman saw them looking and tapped her companion's shoulder. Both badge-wearers wheeled around and walked right back out of the pub. Roy and Hawkeye jumped up and pushed their way to the door as fast as they could through the crowd. Once they managed to break free into the frigid mountain air, the badges were already down the path several yards. At least they were on foot which meant they were most certainly locals.

He and Hawkeye broke out into a run. Roy felt the rush of air but didn't have time to dodge as Thick-Neck stepped out from the shadow. He slammed a log from the fire woodpile near the pub wall into Roy's side, taking the Lieutenant Colonel off his feet. Roy felt the bullet graze along his side break open and bleed as he rolled along the ground, breathless.

"Sly, Elliot, get her but she's mine once I'm done with pretty boy," Thick-Neck said. "Help hold him down, Rob."

_Just what I need, reinforcements,_ Roy groaned mentally, rolling out of Rob's way as the brawny man reached for him. Mustang leapt to his feet, swinging on Thick-Neck. The man was muscled but he was slow. Roy's fist caught the man's nose, breaking it. Thick-Neck fell back, howling. Gunfire echoed through the wooded glade the Quiet Woman rested in. Thick-Neck's buddies yelped in shock.

"Come on, Mustang!" Hawkeye cried, her guns out.

"We don't have time for you idiots," Mustang yelled back to their attackers as he started loping downhill, following the path the badge-wearers had taken.

Hawkeye was ahead of him, running with a gun in either hand. He just hoped her trigger finger wasn't too easy or he was likely to catch a ricochet off the ground. Behind him, he heard the roar of a truck engine and the malicious howling of four bullies too stupid to give up the fight. Hawkeye was already dodging for the side of the road. Mustang followed suit, pulling out one of his gloves as the logging truck rolled past and circled back for them.

"They're starting to piss me off," Roy growled as the truck lumbered their way. He snapped his fingers and the vehicle was engulfed in flames. The fire started dying as soon as it ignited but the effect was what Roy wanted. The men inside were shrieking in fear and drove right into a ditch. Roy caught Hawkeye's elbow and propelled her forward. "I was really hoping not to out myself as alchemist in town, too."

"Better that than losing our target," she said, pushing herself to pick up her speed.

But it was too late. Their target had disappeared. Trolling the streets near the pub showed them nothing. The morons from the Quiet Lady had cost them dearly. The streets were deathly quiet and sleet began to fall, freezing both soldiers to the core. Roy cursed loudly as they walked on. The night couldn't have taken a worse turn. It was too small of a town for word not to get around about a gun-toting blonde and her flame-throwing companion. Roy knew he had no prayer of blending in. The only way he could look more exotic was to have Ishbalan red eyes. Even though they knew they had lost their prey, they kept searching until the very early morning hours.

Finally they dragged back to the little hotel room. It was cold inside. Hawkeye put a hand on the radiator. "It doesn't throw much heat. Guess we're supposed to use the fireplace."

"This place is more for romance than convenience...sorry. It was the best I could do," he said sheepishly, taking off his sopping jacket.

"Understood sir." She went over and threw a few logs into the fireplace then stepped back and looked at him.

Pulling on his wet array glove first, Roy took out the matches and lit one. Flames leapt from it to the fireplace. He tossed the match in as well. He turned and saw Hawkeye giving him a curious look. "I can't create the spark. I need something to build the transmutation off of and my gloves can't make the spark when they're wet."

"I'll keep that in mind, sir. Are you all right? He hit you hard. I can see you're bleeding again." She pointed to his shirt.

"I'll be fine. Why don't you shower first, Hawkeye, and warm up? I'll report back in to Central and you and I have to get some sleep. We aren't going to be good for much longer."

She nodded. "I'm really feeling every muscle that got pulled when the car rolled."

"I know."

While she showered, Roy left a message for Gran at command, merely stating that they had spotted what might be a rebel faction and that they would try to follow up on it in the morning. He tried to divorce himself from thoughts of what was happening to Hughes. It wouldn't help if he worked himself up with thoughts of torture and death. He needed to rest so he'd be worth something to his friend in a few hours. He looked up from the fireplace where he had been sitting when Hawkeye came back into the room. "You take the bed, Hawkeye. I'll sleep in the chair." He pointed to the overstuffed chair that he wasn't sitting in until he had dry clothes.

"Are you sure, sir?"

"Positive."

He left her turning down the bed clothes as he went to shower the beer out of his hair and the blood from his body. He did his best to patch up the bullet wound. His skin was red and angry there and now bruising even more thanks to catching a log to the ribs. Hawkeye was still awake when he dragged back into the room and fell into the chair.

"That doesn't look comfortable, sir. Please, the bed is plenty big. It's not like I didn't have to sleep right next to other male soldiers on the front lines," Hawkeye said, patting the mattress.

He wanted to climb in next to her in the worst way. Instead, he said, "It's not really appropriate."

"Who'll tell command?" she asked.

Mustang sighed. He was too tired to argue. He flipped the covers down on the other side and climbed in. The bed was luxuriously soft. He sighed again, sinking into the feather tic. "Thanks, Hawkeye," he said, all too aware of how close she was to him.

"You smell good," she blurted out.

He glanced over at her, looking at her huge eyes and the hand she had flung across her mouth. He could imagine her blush.

"I'm so sorry sir. That wasn't...I didn't...it was inappropriate."

"Relax, Lieutenant. Like you said, who'll tell command." He smiled faintly. She had a point. He did smell good, usually did. Jenna, the herbalist who looked out for him when he was growing up, always made sure to send him her hand milled soaps, rich in goat milk, cedar, rosemary and cloves. "Speaking of command, no demands have come in from any groups holding a solider for ransom. We still have no idea who's behind this."

"People foolish enough to wear an identifiable mark," she said, shifting on the bed so she was looking at him.

Roy's eyes strayed for a moment to her lush chest. "Not foolish, overly proud. They're as proud of their group as we are of our military. They probably think what they're doing is for the greater good. We just have to find them."

"And find out why they want Hughes."

"That too. That's secondary in my mind but I suppose it's not to Command." Roy said. "We'll worry about it in the morning. Get some sleep, Hawkeye."

She mumbled something, letting her eyes shut. As she relaxed into sleep, her hand brushed his arm. He wished he could nod off as quickly as she could. Hell, he'd settle for being able to tear his eyes away from her body and it didn't help that blood was heading south to spite him. _Great, she had only been asleep for a few minutes. All she needs to do is wake up and see you like this!_ Roy rolled onto his back but that just made his condition all the more obvious. He flipped onto his side and behind him, Hawkeye murmured. _Give me a break!_ He demanded of his body but it ignored him. It had been a while since he had a girl in his bed, not really trusting his state of mind ever since he got back from Ishbal. Oh, his reputation would have everyone believe otherwise but he had been lonely for months. His body was making him pay for that now, remaining stubbornly as hard as iron.

_Damn it! _ Roy slipped out of bed and hobbled into the bathroom. This was the last thing he needed with Riza sleeping just a few feet away and Hughes God knew where captive. Of course, Hughes barely registered with Roy's chaotic mind. He was too full of how Hawkeye looked, how she moved and smelled, of how her hand had felt on his arm. She was an underling. She was forbidden. Thoughts of that did nothing to ease the heaviness between his legs. It only served to make it worse. Clamping his jaw shut, resolutely, Roy reached down for that treacherous body part.


	5. Almost

Chapter Five

_Roy, if you're going to get off your ass and save me, now would be the time to do it! _Hughes shuddered, barely able to cling to consciousness. Womack and Fisher were in the corner, smoking and talking about how they were going to bring Drachma to new glory with all the zeal of fanatics while they waited for him to wake. That they spoke so openly told Hughes he wasn't leaving this place alive. They weren't bargaining with Military Command for his release. If his kidnappers were to be believed, someone in Command had betrayed them all.

Hughes flinched when thunder clapped and the tin roof sang the lyrics of a downpour. It couldn't rain. It simply couldn't. Roy couldn't mount an attack in the rain. He was useless then. Something inside of Hughes broke. No one was going to get him out of this hell. Tears broke past his control and rolled down his cheeks. A stuttering sob escaped his lips.

"I think our boy is awake," Fisher said, glee in her voice. Hughes knew she couldn't wait to start in with him again. They weren't really even asking him questions any more. They were taking turns just to see who could make him scream louder.

"You want to handle him? I have to go talk to Leslee and Stephen. They said they spotted the freak at a pub last night. I want to see if they know where he went." Womack came over and leered at Hughes

Maes wished he could at least get a hand free to wipe his face dry. "What do you want now?"

"Your friend doesn't seem to care much about you, does he? He's out drinking while you're here." Womack chuckled maliciously as he tapped Hughes' damp cheek.

Hughes just looked away. Would Roy really do that to him? He didn't think so but Womack sounded so sure.

Womack twisted and looked back at Fisher. "Why don't you leave off asking him about the freak and see if he's more forthcoming on what the Amestrisians dogs want with Drachma?"

Fisher took a long drag on her cigarette. "Fine."

Womack headed out and Fisher came over to the bedside. She puffed smoke at Hughes. "How I'm expected to learn anything without proper tools, I'll never know."

"There's nothing to learn," Hughes told her. "I'm not who you seem to think I am."

"Are you sticking to that story? Ah well, I'll just have to improvise." Fisher puffed on her cigarette then touched it to Hughes chest.

He clamped his jaw shut tight, swallowing back the pain. "I don't know anything. I'm not in command."

"Then who is? The freak?" She moved the cigarette between his legs, touching delicate flesh.

Hughes sobbed. "Yes!"

She sat back, putting her cigarette back between her lips. She rolled it around. "Really? I wonder if we were lied to then about you. I think you earned a little break while I discuss this with Womack." Fisher pulled on his bound wrists. "These are a bit loose." She pulled metal handcuffs out of her back pocket and clamped one around one wrist and the other to the bed post then disappeared out the door.

Hughes tugged on it and knew instantly he didn't have much hope of slipping free and at this point he truly was too weak to run for it. He had betrayed Roy. He had let slip something of importance. _What have I done? _Hughes gave in to the pain and fear, sobbing softly in the quietness of the empty room. _I'm so sorry, Roy._ If his best friend died before him, Hughes knew he would never survive it.

X X X

"You need to eat, sir," Hawkeye argued with Mustang who wanted to just get back to sleep. "We haven't eaten in almost twenty-four hours. The proprietress serves three meals a day in the dining hall. The clerk said so when you checked in. You're no good to Hughes if you pass out from hunger."

Mustang glared at her, willing her to stop making sense because he didn't want to waste a second. The truth was he was running on empty and needed a few more hours of sleep, food and maybe a little topping off of the blood he had lost. He also knew as poor of shape as he was in, Hughes had to be in far worse condition. _If he's even alive. _"I know, Hawkeye. I'll eat," he gave in, forcing himself up.

Once down in the dining room with a few other happy couples, Roy wondered how out of place he and Hawkeye looked. The gash in her forehead swam in a sea of purple bruising. Roy knew he had to look like death warmed over. He tried to forget the aches in all his muscles as he grabbed for the mug of hopefully-strong coffee one of the waitresses set in front of him without asking if he wanted any. He probably looked like he'd die without it.

"We have eggs and bacon today or you can have oatmeal," the waitress said, a bored expression on her pinched face.

Mustang made a face. He loathed oatmeal. "Eggs please."

"Same here." Hawkeye smirked at him when the waitress bustled off. "Got something against oatmeal, sir?"

"Everything. It's lumpy and grey and my father insisted on it every morning for breakfast. I hate him...I mean it," Roy grumbled then flushed a bit, realizing he had hinted at something he hadn't meant to. His relationship to his father was no one's business but his. He really was spent, useless for much of anything.

"Well, at least they have eggs," Hawkeye said, taking a hefty drink of coffee, carefully avoiding the subject of his father.

"And the coffee's fortifying," Roy said when he meant he was surprised the stuff didn't just dissolve the spoon then slink off on its own power. It was worse then the stuff Hughes used to brew on the cook fires in Ishbal. Roy bit his lip trying to banish memories of his friend so not to be overwhelmed. "I could use it. My brain's mush."

"I know. We'd both do better if we just crawled back into bed," she said, then turned red all the way to her roots. "That didn't come out like I intended."

"I know what you mean," he said, wishing he had time to do just that to get some sleep as much as for the chance to touch her beautiful body. Roy's eyes scanned the room. The dining hall was fit for the morning after a wedding, all lace and flowers and gauzy curtains. It screamed of sweetness and romance. He and Hawkeye couldn't be more out of place if they jumped on a table and started stripping. It seemed to him that people were looking at him too intently and it wasn't just because he was with a lovely woman. "Is it me, or am I under scrutiny?"

"I was thinking that perhaps someone's recognized you from the fracas last night," Riza said, her nose wrinkling at the thought.

"That's why I was hoping to avoid using my alchemy...well, there are things I can do to help us go a little less noticed. We'll have to go back to the room before we leave the hotel to see what we can find out about those men" Roy said, rubbing his tired eyes. His side hitched as he did, the bullet graze twinging.

Riza nodded and they fell silent, concentrating on their coffees and trying to wake up. The conversations that swirled around them were soft, leaving the soldiers with the impression they were the only ones here not on a honeymoon. When the piles of scrambled eggs and bacon came, Roy found he had more than his usual appetite, which was normally minimal. He scarfed down his breakfast with unaccustomed speed, his belly protesting the assault.

"Is everything to your liking?"

Roy glanced up, mid-chew, and saw a chubby, elderly woman standing next to the table. Her smile seemed to go all the way up to the bun she had her ashen hair in. He swallowed. "It's very good."

"Oh good. And you dear?" She turned her gaze on Riza.

The lieutenant managed a sunny smile. "Delicious."

"Well, I'm Dori and I own the hotel. I try to meet with all my guests to make sure your needs are being taken care of," the old woman said, patting Riza's shoulders in a grandmotherly way. Roy could tell she liked packing her hotel with people in love.

"It's a lovely place, thank you," Roy said, hoping to shoo her away.

Her wrinkled face crinkled in a smile then she leaned close and said softly, "Though I doubt you're here to enjoy the company of such a lovely lady, are you, Alchemist?"

Roy made a face, setting down his fork. "I was afraid someone would figure that out."

"State?" Dori's jovial look faded in an instant.

He held up a hand. "We're not looking to cause you any troubles."

"Good. I have sons on both sides of the borders." Dori's mouth pinched. Seeing military around makes me nervous."

"We're just looking for a group of people," Hawkeye said, ignoring Roy's 'shut up, Lieutenant' look. "White badges with-"

"Red stars," Dori finished for her, spitting the words out like a glob of gristle. "I have no time for those fools."

"You know who they are?" Roy hissed. Shock wrote itself across his face. He resisted the urge to grab her and shake the information out.

Dori's face screwed up as if she had sucked a bushel full of lemons. "You'd be best to leave them alone."

"I can't." Roy struggled to keep his voice down. "They've kidnapped a friend of mine."

"Then you had best hope they killed him quick. That crew is nothing but ugly," Dori said, her color draining out. The eggs turned leaden inside Roy's belly.

"Please, tell us what you know. No one will know who put us on to them. My friend could still be alive and I want to keep him that way," Roy pleaded, not willing to let a potential well of information dry up.

"We don't want to cause problems for you," Riza said, reaching for Dori's wrist.

"I don't know anything about Drachma Liberation Front," Dori said, her eyes shifting nervously, looking to see who might be listening in. "But I might be able to introduce you to someone who can...not now. Tonight."

"Thank you, but we don't have time..." Roy said but her hard look stopped him.

"All I know is that they think Drachma should defeat Amestris. Come tonight. I'm sorry about your friend. It's the best I can do," she insisted, pulling away from them.

Roy nodded, weighing his options, deciding he needed her as a friend. "I appreciate that. Thank you. We'll do our best to lead no one back here."

"And I'll appreciate that," she said grimly, then pushed off to greet other guests, her happy hostess smile sliding back into place.

Hawkeye leaned forward. "This is good news."

"If you ignore the part about Hughes probably already being dead," Roy said miserably, shoving his plate away.

"I am because of what we've already talked about. If they wanted him dead, they would never have taken him in the first place," Hawkeye argued, polishing off her coffee.

"Unless they've done with him whatever they needed to or got whatever information he might have had." Roy almost pounded on the table but stopped himself. Dori wouldn't appreciate it and she might be the only link to finding Hughes. "But it still doesn't track. Hughes is my subordinate. I can't imagine what they think he knows unless it's about me and they could have just taken me."

"Unless..." Hawkeye looked around and saw the couples at the nearest tables were taking too deep an interest in them. "We should probably talk about this upstairs."

Roy nodded and got up from the table. He led the way back to their room.

Hawkeye reclined against the mantlepiece, looking like she needed it to hold her up. "As I was saying, sir, what if this is just what you fear it is, a set up from Central. People there know of your friendship with Major Hughes. It's not like it's a secret. Maybe someone is trying to isolate you from someone who could...I don't know, help your career or something like that. I know some people are jealous of you attaining your rank at such a young age. Hughes also strikes me as very perceptive and that can be dangerous."

Roy pressed a fist against his lips, considering that. "Certainly not unheard of for them to play a political game like that. I feel sick. If this is because of me-"

"It's not your fault, sir. No one could have predicted this." Hawkeye put a hand on his shoulder, feeling him flinch slightly, too angry to be comforted.

Looking into her brown eyes, Roy sighed heavily. "I guess the why's don't matter. We need to get back out there and see what we can turn up about the Drachma Liberation Front. We'll worry about the why's when we're killing them." Grabbing his kit, he stomped into the bathroom and plugged the sink. He let it fill with water, tossed in some raw minerals from his kit then dunked his head. He transmuted the chemicals and water until his hair was left a blazing gold, taking care to not forget his eyebrows. He toweled his head off and grimaced at the man in the mirror. There was no hiding his almond eyes and his coloring was all wrong for a blond but at least he'd be harder to recognize this way. "Hawkeye, come here please."

"Sir?" Her querulous tone was soft and she didn't near the open door.

Roy snorted. He should know better than to ask a subordinate into the bathroom. He poked his head out and her eyes widened. "Come here. I want to disguise you a little, too."

"How did you do that? More alchemy?" She pointed to his blond hair.

"It's pretty simple, kid's stuff really. I made mine bright amethyst once just to see what my teacher would do." He grinned, like the errant boy he had been at the time. He drained and refilled the sink.

Hawkeye's eyes danced. "And?

"Cinzia proved that hair is a privilege not a right." Roy tossed in a different chemicals into fresh water. "I looked stupid bald. Here, just bend over the sink and get your hair into the water."

Hawkeye undid her hair clip and leaned down. Roy put his hands in her hair and standing behind her with her bent over was a little much for him. He had to take a deep breath and concentrate before the head that didn't think took over. The transmutation done, he eased her up then handed her a towel.

She gave herself a critical once over. "Redhead?"

"It doesn't look bad on you. I like the blond better though," he said, his tongue stumbling over the words as he propelled her back into the bedroom. The bathroom was a little too enclosed for him. "Unlike me...my blond is ugly."

"It's not really you." she agreed, toweling off. She dropped her clip in the process.

"It'll do its part to conceal us at least a little." Roy stooped and fished up her clip. He caught her hair, sweeping it back so he could clip it into place for her. He put his hands on her shoulders, surveying his work. "There. Ready?'

"Yes, sir."

Roy's hands lingered for a moment on her shoulders, as he looked at their reflection in the mirror. Hawkeye twisted, her eyes meeting his. On impulse Roy leaned down and kissed her. When she didn't pull away, he captured her chin, his mouth working against hers ardently then as if lightning struck, Roy jumped back. "What am I...I'm so sorry, Hawkeye! I didn't..."

She pulled out of his hands and went to retrieve her guns from the dresser, her face flushed. She started to say something but words didn't come out.

"I don't know what the hell I was thinking. I apologize," Roy said, slapping a hand against his forehead. What had come over him? One second his mind was consumed with trying to get his friend back and the next he could think of nothing but how wonderful Hawkeye tasted.

"We'd better get out there, sir," she said, heading for the door.

Roy was grateful for the chance of escaping this room, the awkward moment and his own chaotic thoughts.

X X X

"At least it's warmer today than it's been," Hawkeye said, trying to put a better spin on the whole horrid experience of patrolling the streets of a border town neither of them knew. Her legs were exhausted from trudging up and fighting to keep from rolling down the insanely steep roads. These people could keep the Briggs Mountains as far as she was concerned. Mustang's mood was foul since they hadn't found so much as a hair of the Drachma Liberation Front

"For all the good it did us," he grumbled, heading into the nearby gun shop.

Hawkeye sighed, thinking at least she'd be able to pick up some ammo, even if she was tempted to use it on him. Riza tried to blot out the reasons she was angry at him. It had nothing to do with his ire and frustration and the horrible mood he was in, and had everything to do with her being furious with him. He made her hunger for him so much with that kiss. She wanted to hate him for it, for making her senseless with desire. She felt useless out here, her mind not consumed with business like it should be. Riza knew she couldn't seriously consider what that kiss had promised. He was her commanding officer. She couldn't, wouldn't do that sort of thing. She wasn't cheap but how would he know that from the way she had thrust her tongue into his mouth?

The gun store was too empty. There was nothing to draw her eyes away from his lean form, from those smoldering eyes that he couldn't hide with his alchemy. Dark as the forest at night, she could get lost in them just as easily as a child in those legendary evil forests from stories of childhood. Riza knew she was hopeless. She wanted him over her. Sleeping next to him had been nothing like those horrid nights in Ishbal, sweating in her tent next to several other stinking soldiers. Mustang had been warm and the bed too luxurious for her to ignore the possibilities. She had woken up once in the night, wrapped around him, the knobs of his spine digging into her chest.

He hadn't been resting easily either, murmuring in his sleep, his body tense. She had felt exceedingly wrong about it but she hadn't been able to resist pressing a hand to his belly where it was exposed by his hiked-up shirt. His skin was softer than she expected, hairless, quivering just a bit under her hand. Riza wish she could have seen that flesh clearly, expected it to be as smooth and as white as pearl. What hid just south of where her hand had rested? She wondered then. She wondered now. Yes, she truly was useless. She had barely seen him beckoning her to follow him out of the store. How was she expected to see the enemy? Riza needed to clear her mind. Outside, the sky was deep grey and the rain that had begun seemed to match her mood.

Just as she was about to dip deep into a well of self-recrimination, Riza spotted a tall walnut-tresses woman coming out of candy store, a heavy brown sack in hand. She had seen that face before, at the attack. She was one of the ones who had pulled Hughes into the truck. Riza grabbed Roy's wrist. "There, sir. She was one of the ones who grabbed Hughes up. I'm sure of it."

Mustang stiffened, his features twisting in a way she hoped would never be turned on her. She had heard of what Flame could do. She never wanted him to be after her with such anger in him. Hawkeye had seen the fires in Ishbal, heard the explosions and the fearful whispers of her fellow soldiers. No one really wanted to be near the alchemists. They seemed more like gods than men and ones like Flame, Crimson, Silver, Cerulean, and Ironblood were more fierce than most. Hawkeye could see why that was now. "Follow her," he grated out. "I don't just want her. I want the rest of them, too. I'll wager she's not here alone."

His order surprised her. Hawkeye could see how wrapped up Mustang was in saving his friend. She didn't expect him to do something that made sense tactically. So, maybe he wasn't just a lieutenant colonel because of the things in Ishbal. That made Mustang even more attractive. Handsome was one thing, intelligent made him all the more dangerous to her heart.

They followed the woman two blocks until she met up with two other men near a truck, nondescript, worn but there was no way of saying if it was one of the trucks used in the attack. One of the two men sported the white shield. Mustang reached out and took Hawkeye's hand, pulling her close. His arm slipped around her and she realized he was trying to make them look like any other couple on the street. They might be able to get closer this way. They at least made it across the street before the woman's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing.

"We don't have time for tour..." she started to say just to warn off what she thought were hapless tourists, then her mouth pulled into a grimace. "Nice try. I think the freak's shown up, boys."

"What, Fisher?" one of the men said as the other leaned into the truck, quickly rummaging around.

Lightning forked and the rain really started to pelt down. The woman smiled. "The traitor we broke said the freak was the leader and look here, he spared us the trouble of hunting him down."

"I really hate being called a freak," Roy growled, his hands tensing. He leaned closer to Riza and said, "We need your guns, Hawkeye."

"Guns?" She already had two of them unholstered. "Can't you just..." Hawkeye trailed off, glancing upwards into the deluge. "Oh damn, you can't in the rain, can you?"

"No spark, no fire," he hissed and she pressed a gun into his hand. He trained it on the tall woman. "You can make this easy and just take us to Hughes."

"Just drop that gun and you'll get to see him, no problem." The Drachmaian woman flashed a viper smile, edging toward the truck. One of her fellows shot at him and Hawkeye.

Roy dodged for cover and Hawkeye moved in the opposite direction, firing. He saw one of the rebels fall. Damn if she wasn't well named. He fired as well; at the very least winging the Drachmaian woman's other companion, and the smug look faded off the woman's face, realizing that she wasn't dealing with easy targets. She leapt in the truck and gunned the engine. She wasn't that tough when she realized she was out manned.

Roy raced after the truck until he couldn't run any more. He knew he had no prayer of stopping it. He cursed the rain. If not for that, he'd have her at his mercy, which was pretty limited at this point. Hawkeye loped up behind him.

"She left her companion, sir...but I did a little too well in targeting him," she said hesitantly, making a face.

"I told you not to kill them, Hawkeye," he snapped.

"Sorry, sir." She met his angry eyes levelly.

"She knew where to find Hughes and I let her go because of the fucking rain. I'm so damn useless..." Roy's body shook. "Now what? They know we're here. They know what I am and we don't even have a good way of following them since we're on foot."

"Getting a vehicle isn't easy and wasn't needed to scour the town for them. You couldn't have known," Hawkeye said placatingly.

"Of course, I could. They had trucks when they hit us the first time. We can't screw this up again, Hawkeye. Hughes won't last much longer," Roy said, trying to ignore what the woman had said. Hughes might already be gone. He had certainly given Roy's rank up, or at least the rebel had wanted Roy to think that. If they had been betrayed by someone in Command that could have been the broken link or she could just have assumed the alchemist would be in charge.

"What now sir?"

"We see if we can find anyone who knows these people. We start at that candy shop. For people who hate Amestris so much, they sure spend a lot of time here."

"Wasn't this town once part of Drachma?" Hawkeye asked.

Roy just shrugged and headed for the shop.

X X X

"The rain's turning to ice," Hawkeye said, shaking her hair out as they ducked inside the hotel's lobby. "We have to stop searching, sir, so I'd appreciate it if you quit yelling at me for making you come back. Besides, Dori said she's help us tonight."

"So, is my lieutenant telling me to shut up and eat and otherwise be a good boy?" Roy said, trying for lighthearted and hitting bitter.

"I'm saying you can't be so hard on yourself, sir, and maybe we'll get lucky here tonight with Dori's contact," Hawkeye said, heading into the dining room. Eyes floated their way. "Maybe we should have gone and dried off first," she whispered sardonically.

"Too late now."

"Don't you look cold," the waitress said, with a regretful wag of her head at seeing their condition. "I'll seat you by the fire."

"Thanks."

Roy sat lost in his own thoughts even after the hearty dumpling soup came and well past that course and to when they started on the beef in blood plum sauce. He appreciated Hawkeye leaving him alone, even though he suspected she didn't want to just eat in dead silence, shivering in her frozen clothing. He felt terribly guilty when the whiskey custard pie with brown sugar meringue came out. It was the one thing he actually wanted from the meal. Again, he was a lousy friend, stuffing himself with sweets when...no he wouldn't think on it. When Dori appeared from nowhere just as he and Hawkeye were licking up the last crumbs of crust, Roy had to wonder if she timed it purposefully. A middle aged man who looked to be carved from one solid piece of muscle was at her side.

"Was dinner to your liking?" she asked brightly and loudly.

"Delicious," he replied, his eyes flicking to her companion.

"My son, Lisander," she added much more softly. "He's in the Drachmian army. I think he can help you." She left them and he sat with them.

"Would it be safe to assume you were involved in the shooting of rebels today?" Lisander asked, no recriminations in his green eyes.

Roy shrugged. "What do you know about them?"

"That we've been trying to ferret them out," he scrubbed a hand over his short sandy beard. "We have a good idea where they might be but what exactly is your involvement?"

"We were ambushed, two of my men were killed and one taken. We want him back," Roy replied. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Mustang and I was dispatched here to be certain nothing threatened the peace our countries have achieved. We were aware of rumors of contraband runners that were doing just that."

Lisander's weathered face tightened. "We had heard similar rumors and it is probably worse than you know. I am not at liberty to say much, just that the Drachma Liberation Front pose an embarrassment to my country and, as you said, could threaten the peace we are enjoying. We have been planning to stop them but we have been trying to discover how far their roots go. I'll check with Investigations and see if we have some ideas of their strongholds in this area so we can assist you in retrieving your man. We do not want more Amestrisians soldiers having to come into the area. I'm sure you understand."

Mustang nodded. "At the moment there you will only have to deal with myself and my lieutenant." He gestured at Hawkeye. "We appreciate your assistance in this..."

"Major Ferrick," Lisander supplied.

"Major Ferrick. I think Command will be satisfied that these people are a rebel cell that doesn't represent your country. There should be no reprisals," Mustang said, wondering if that were true. Yes, Gran had told him not create an incident but it hadn't escaped his notice how willing Command was to fight a four-sided war. That had never made sense to him.

"And I'll inform my Command of what is transpiring and of your willingness to work with us instead of against. However, while I know we are on your side of the border and I have no jurisdiction here, let me suggest avoiding further gun battles. If you fail to capture them, they might decide withdrawing is a better option and move somewhere Investigations is unaware of." Lisander's eyes went grim. "Or worse, realize just what they might be up against, Alchemist."

"Point taken but when can I expect to have the information we need to rescue my man?" Mustang's voice went tighter than a wine cork.

"By no later than mid-day or very possibly earlier, I'd think. It would be best if you remain here where I can find you easily," Lisander suggested.

Mustang took that as if it was an order and probably a wise one. "We'll do that.. Thank you, Major."

Lisander got up, nodded to the soldiers then spun on his heel and left.

"Sir, do you really think that Command will be all right with you working with the Drachmaian army?" Hawkeye queried softly.

"I'm not telling them. Our reinforcements aren't here yet." Mustang didn't want to tell her that he wasn't all that sure they had even been sent. "It's easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission. I'll just tell Command we have some leads and we'll follow them in the morning. Once the mission is complete, we'll inform Command of how we managed it."

"Understood, sir." Riza took a final sip of tea. "Back to the room now?"

"Yeah. There's nothing more we can do tonight."

Hawkeye followed Mustang upstairs, locking the door behind them. She almost regretted penning herself in with him when she saw the expression on his face change. The reserved mask dropped away, revealing the fury beneath. It was worse than what she had seen in his eyes out on the street.

"I can't believe this rain. We wouldn't be in this position waiting on help if I weren't so damn useless." Roy slammed his fist into the wall.

"Sir, that's not accomplishing anything," Hawkeye said, wondering if that was her wisest move.

"Do you think I care? We were this close and I messed it up," Roy roared. "Because my gloves are useless in the rain and I didn't have anything to cause a spark. All I had were some damn matches, just as useless in the rain. How much time do we think Hughes has left? I may have just cost him his life."

"You weren't alone out there, sir. I didn't do much better," Hawkeye reminded him, not willing to back down.

"But not because of your own arrogance," Mustang snapped, his slender body trembling with blind rage. "I'm so self assured with these damn gloves that I've gotten sloppy. You don't even want to know what I could have done with that water if I had just thought to bring a lighter."

"Then we'll get you one before we go out again," Hawkeye said calmly, very sure she didn't want to know what he could transmute water into. "You can't cry over spilled milk, sir. We might not have gotten Hughes back but we have gained an ally. That is no small thing."

Roy's shoulders slumped. "I know. It's just..."

"You're worried about your friend. I do understand that, sir." Hawkeye put a hand on his arm.

Roy glanced down at her fingers wonderingly. He hadn't forgotten what had transpired between them in the morning. "Like you can't believe. He is the best friend I've ever had and I know that he's hurting now. I know this and I can't do anything about it."

"I understand, sir. Why don't you sit down." Hawkeye touched his shoulder. "You look like you're ready to collapse. We're both exhausted and hurt ourselves."

Roy shook his head so she pushed him toward the bed. He sat down before she knocked him on his backside. What was he going to do with such a forceful subordinate and why did he like it so much?

Hawkeye sat next to him and he wished she hadn't. The distraction she posed was too much. "Do you have any more ideas as to who may have set us up, sir?"

"No." Roy ran a hand through his hair. "I probably won't have enough clues until I get back to Central. That's where it had to come from unless this is far more coincidental than I suspect."

"Highly doubtful."

"Agree." Roy flopped back on the bed, trying to toe off his shoes. "Why don't you take the shower first, Hawkeye?"

"Sore as I am, I'd love to take a hot bath." She sighed heavily.

"Go on. That tub's built for two, literally. I think Dori was offended no one was using all the fancy oils she stocks the room with," Roy replied, rubbing his eyes.

"Dangers of staying at a place meant for trysts." Hawkeye replied, looking down at him reclined on the bed.

"Well, in the long run, it was a good thing I chose here to hide out in." Roy propped himself up on his elbows. "We might be able to find Hughes tomorrow if Lisander comes through."

"He will."

Roy sat back up and touched her hair. "We should probably just leave the colors as they are for the duration though I'm not sure red suits you...though I think I said that this morning."

"You don't make a very good blond either but it does make your eyes really stand out." Hawkeye didn't touch his cheek or trace his eyes but he thought she wanted to.

Roy ran a finger under his eye. "Just what I need, as if they don't already make me stand out in a crowd."

"I like them," she said softly.

Roy knew invitation when he heard it. Most of his anger had already drained away, taking his fatigue with it, leaving too much room for feelings he couldn't afford. He leaned over and kissed her hungrily. Her hands went around his neck, pulling him closer, teeth clashing. Her tongue pressed into his mouth. She tasted of brown sugar and plums.

He sucked her in greedily, bearing her back against the bed. Riza moaned softly as he pressed against her. Her body yielded to him, her feet rubbing against his calves as she let him between her strong legs. Roy rocked his hips against hers. The heat of her penetrating her still damp clothing intoxicated him. She arched under him, rubbing against the hardness of him, soft, growling sounds of need rumbling in her throat. He slipped a hand up under her shirt.

Riza writhed under him. She pushed on his chest, prying her lips away from his. "Please, let me go, sir. Please!"

Roy, surprised at the look of panic in her eye, rolled off of her. He touched her cheek with a shaking hand. "I...I thought..."

Hawkeye swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, her chest heaving. "I'm sorry, sir."

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...damn!" Roy shoved off the bed. "I'm not normally like this. I don't know what came over me."

"It's safe to say it overcame us both," she said, her lip curling at her lapse of judgement.

"I don't...you're a subordinate. I know the rules and regs. I don't break them," Roy paced the room. "But damn it...this isn't right."

"What isn't, sir?"

"You calling me 'sir' for one thing while we're like this." His hand swept between them from his oh so obvious erection to her flushed face and the press of her nipples through her shirt. "I can ignore my baser impulses. Yes, you are one of the most arousing women I've met in a long time but if that was all it was I could gladly set those feelings aside in deference to our careers."

"I know, sir...Roy," she broke in softly. "Or I should say I feel the same. You didn't read me wrong. I invited it and I know better. I made a promise to myself a long time ago that whatever I did, whatever path I follow, I'll get where I'm going on my own merits." Hawkeye curled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "I promised myself no one would ever accuse me of sleeping my way to the top. I've seen those women, grew up with some of them, grasping, using. I swore that wouldn't be me."

"I don't think that of you," he said, hurriedly. "I don't use my subordinates as a harem no matter what rumors you might hear."

"I'm an exception?" The bitterness in her voice would have needed a pot of honey to ameliorated.

"In more ways than you know. The last thing Maes did before we went on that mission was to yell at me for going into a free fall over you. Lust I can ignore but not this feeling of wanting to know everything about you, of feeling lost and not wanting to be found. This is not supposed to be happening. I don't like feeling like I fell off a cliff."

Riza wet her lips, too stunned to reply. She had been utterly unprepared to hear him opening his heart and believing every word of it; just as unprepared as he had been to let it just spill out.

Roy wanted to take it all back. He hadn't wanted her to know the things percolating inside him. It was just wrong in so many ways. All his desires were out there now, where they didn't belong, putting pressure on them both. It would have been kinder to just let her chalk it up to pure lust that got out of control. Now she knew she held too much of him in her hands.

Roy rubbed his knuckles over his lips. "I...we should get some sleep, Hawkeye. Forget all of this. I'm sorry...I'll sleep in the chair."

"Sir... you don't have to. We can trust each other to behave, can't we?" she asked, shakily.

"I'm too tired to argue." Drained was more truthful. His emotions had left him wrung out, limp like wet paper.

After speedy showers, they ended up on their sides, clinging to the edges of the bed with enough space between them to fit another person. Roy wasn't sure if Riza was asleep or not. He wanted to turn over and hold her. He didn't. He eventually slipped into a fitful sleep.

Riza was roused when something hit her. Her mind filtered closer to consciousness and she realized Roy had kicked her calf. He was still on his side, his fists in tight balls as his feet twitched. His face was twisted in obvious distress, little sounds rumbling in his throat. She couldn't imagine what sort of dream was causing this. "Roy," she said softly, touching his shoulder.

He screamed, nearly rolling out of bed. Riza caught his shoulder, hauling him back. She couldn't see his eyes in the dark but his ragged breathing told a story, fear so loud it nearly engulfed her. One of his hands grabbed her arm hard and she knew he was looking at her but she wasn't sure Mustang recognized her. He tossed his head back against the pillow letting out a jagged moan. "Damn...sorry. I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Roy." She skimmed her hand over his shoulder. "It was just a dream."

He shuddered, rolling away from her. "I should have warned you."

Riza rubbed his back. She no longer cared about sending messages. This one she wanted him to get. She did care for him. "Not your first nightmare."

The acrimonious sound he made might have been a twisted laugh or a sob. She couldn't tell. "Hardly."

"Ishbal?"

He just nodded, his hands twisting in the sheets.

"It gives me nightmares, too," she said, softly.

"I should just go sit up in the chair. I won't sleep again. You should try to get some rest," he murmured.

Riza looped her arms around him. "Stay. I probably won't get back to sleep either." She pressed her cheek against his shoulder. He smelled of slightly of sweat over the spiciness of that woodsy soap he used but she didn't care. "Talk to me."

"I don't want to talk about the dream." He twisted a little in her arms. She thought he must be trying to look at her but she didn't meet his eyes.

"I don't want to hear about that. Talk to me about anything else."

"I don't know what to say. Maybe you should let me go," he said.

Riza sighed, rolling over. She flicked on the bed stand light, shielding her eyes. Behind her, he grunted. She got out of the warm bed and tiptoed across the cold floor to her kit. Her book of poetry was in it when Mustang had liberated some of their belongings from the other hotel. She handed it to him and crawled back into bed. "Then read to me."

He gave her a dubious look but opened the collection of Kit Aurin's work. "_Caught in the whirlpool that's between us, we're drawn closer, inextricably, gravitationally_." Roy cleared his throat, blushing a bit.

"Maybe a different poem?" Riza felt like the flush didn't end with her face. She was hot all the way to her toes.

Roy set the book aside. "How about I tell you about the Ravensdales? They're about the only thing good about my childhood. He started me on my way to becoming an alchemist and Jenna, his daughter, is the one who makes the soaps and stuff."

Riza smiled, settlings back against the pillows. "I'd like that."

Roy wet his lips. He wasn't sure he was comfortable with this. He knew he wouldn't sleep again. Reading poetry might be dangerous. Besides, he wanted her to know him, needed it. Even if what they were feeling was doomed from the beginning he still had to let her see him for what he truly was.


	6. Free Fall

Author's Note - This chapter is the scaled down "R" rated version . If you're old enough and wise to see it in its full NC-17 form you can either head to livejournal to the FMAhet community or colorific community, or you can go to the archive at foreverfandom dot net under this same user name and same title.

Chapter Six

Maes couldn't stay awake for long, not any more. His captors had given him mouthfuls of water, just enough to keep him going but he was so dry, his lips cracked and crusted. Hope had washed away with the storm. He just wished for them to kill him so it would stop.

He was vaguely aware of Fisher starting to warm an iron in the fireplace and he didn't think she was about to press uniforms for her fellow insurgents. He should probably beat the pain and just pass out now. However, he wanted to hear what she and Womack were saying about her encounter with 'the freak,' who Fisher was assuring Womack hadn't been that tough. Hughes couldn't tell if Mustang had survived the encounter or not. If Roy had, then he failed to stop Fisher. Maes' brow wrinkled. Did he just hear a popping noise?

"Did you hear that?" Womack asked, glancing toward the window. It was gloomy out.

"More thunder?" Fisher shrugged.

"Maybe." Womack glanced Hughes' way or so he thought from how the blob shifted. "I don't think we're going to get anything more from this one."

"Doesn't matter. If the freak thinks he can save his friend, he'll try and then we'll have what we need when we grab him," Fisher shot back and Hughes' breath hitched. So, Roy was alive. Maybe not all hope was gone.

"I should have known that woman was wrong. Why would a subordinate know more about Amestrisian plans for domination than his leader?" Womack grumbled, giving Hughes another piece of information should he survive. They were looking for a woman who had given him and his companions up.

"I'll give it another go at getting something out of this soldier." Fisher brandished the iron she took from the fire. "Then we can let in the rats. They'll clean him all up for us."

Hughes screwed his eyes shut, swallowing hard. He didn't argue that he knew nothing. They'd just let the rats have him that much faster. He was tempted just to end it. He couldn't take any more pain but now that he knew that these monsters had dangled him as bait for Roy, he couldn't give in now. He'd make stuff up just to stay alive a little longer.

"Going to cry for me again? You looked so sweet the last time," Fisher leered, bringing the cast-iron clothes-iron so close he could feel the radiant heat.

"I wouldn't give you the pleasure," he said with more bravado than he felt.

"Oh, you will, you most assuredly will." The iron dipped closer. "Maybe I should start with this pretty face of yours."

The popping noises sounded again. _Not thunder,_ Maes thought, _gunfire! _"Do it and I'll never tell you what you want to know, like who in your group has been selling you to the woman who traded me to you."

"What did you say?" Womack growled, getting up.

"He's trying to trick us," Fisher said, dismissively. "If he really had anything, he would have given it to us already. You should go check on that noise. Something's not right."

Hughes lifted his head, hearing a strange whooshing noise, like all the air leaving someone's body. He knew that noise. He heard it in his nightmares of Ishbal. He started laughing.

She glared at him. "What's so funny?"

"You're so dead," he said, bracing himself, the hysterical laughter still bubbling out of him.

The door exploded inwards, a ball of fire forking into the room. Fisher yelped, dropping the iron. Hughes barely managed to twist away from it. His shoulder and leg screamed as he rolled onto his side to keep from getting burned. As he made out forms from the smoke, he started to cry again, fat tears of relief rolling down his face. It was over.

X X X

"At least it's not raining," Hawkeye whispered as she and Mustang followed Major Lisander Ferrick and several other black uniformed Drachmaian soldiers onto a compound. She had both guns out and both she and Mustang were in uniform.

"Brought the lighter just in case," he shot back then looked over to Lisander. "Major, what do you want me and the lieutenant to do?" he added deferentially. What he really wanted to do was burn the place to the ground but he knew his best course of action was to let the Drachmaians think they were running the show.

"Let us concentrate on the rebels, Colonel. You concentrate on freeing your man," Lisander said then whipped around when one of his men fired.

The soldier glanced back at his commanding officer. "Sorry, sir, but they were about to radio ahead." He pointing to the dead rebels.

Lisander nodded. "Very well but let's do try to take some of them alive."

Mustang grimaced, wanting it to be over with. Lisander had come for him and Hawkeye before dawn. He was grateful for the early start even though both he and she were exhausted and in all truth no less horny than they had been when they had fallen together during the night. He could see it in Riza's eyes and he had fought with errant body parts all night. The last thing he wanted to do was wander through cold fog, as thick as soup, waiting for a rebel to shoot him. He could have leveled most of this place so easily. The fog could have been transmuted into explosive hydrogen, though if he did that he might take Hughes out with the rebels since he had no idea where his friend was being held. Roy was betting in the big building looming out of the greyness. He was going to get Hughes back, they'd all go home and then Roy would transfer Hawkeye somewhere out of his field of vision because he didn't want to hurt, because he knew he'd like to drag her off to the fens putting out the fog right now, pretend it was a lakeside resort and screw her straight through the ground, providing she didn't toss him on his back and do the same first.

It seemed to take forever to inch their way to the bunker. Lisander had to shoot another sentry. Hawkeye jumped in front of Mustang and shot. He hadn't even seen the second rebel step out of the fog. His heart hammered. "Thanks, Hawkeye," he whispered.

"Any time, sir." She smiled at him, her eyes lingering a bit too long.

"I don't know how we're going to get through that bunker door quickly," Lisander said pointing to the thick metal reinforced wooden door. "We don't want to give them time to kill their prisoners but we might not have a way around that."

Roy smirked. "Allow me, Major."

"What do you have in mind?" Lisander eyed Roy suspiciously.

"I'm the Flame Alchemist." Roy touched thumb to fingers. "Just give me a little space."

Lisander indicated for his men to back up. Roy snapped, barely concentrating on the transmutation. It was second nature to him by now, far from the scared little boy who had first used it in battle against his own father. The door was instantly incinerated. Roy knew he should let Lisander and the Drachmaians in first but to hell with diplomacy. He'd apologize later.

As the smoke cleared from the main room, Roy saw two rebels, both with guns pointing at him. He could hear the scurry of other men deeper in the building. Out of the corner of his watering eyes, he saw his friend chained naked to a bed. Hughes was crying. At least he was alive. Roy kept his attention on the rebels. "Drop the guns and surrender or you'll really make me happy because I want to hurt you." Roy's dark eyes glinted maliciously.

"Like you have time to draw an array, freak," Womack snarled, cocking his gun.

"Oh good." A malicious grin slid like fetid oil across Roy's face. One snap and Womack and Fisher were engulfed in a fast burning fire, leaving them on the floor moaning, charred remnants of clothing clinging to abused skin. "Next snap and I cook you like a holiday roast."

"Could you stop posturing for a moment and get this fucking iron away from my skin?" Hughes growled.

"Take care of your man, Colonel. We'll handle the rebels," Lisander said as Hawkeye pulled the trigger on a rebel who foolishly made himself a target by rushing the room.

Roy ran over to the mephitic mattress Hughes was chained to and tossed the iron to the floor. Hughes collapsed flat onto his back. His watering eyes squinted at Roy, bringing him into focus. A hysterical laugh bubbled out of him.

"Look at your hair! You look ridiculous," Hughes' laughter dissolved into a low-pitched, shaky moan.

"It's okay, Maes." Roy reached down and gently touched his friend's shoulder with his rough gloves. "We're taking you home." Hughes' answer was harsh sob. Roy took stock of the handcuffs holding Hughes down and whipped around. "Where're the keys?"

"You melted them to my thigh, freak," Fisher spat, glaring at him, the frizzled remains of her hair making her look far more comical than threatening.

"Oops." Roy looked more irritated than chagrined at that happenstance.

"You are a train wreck sometimes, Roy," Hughes rasped out.

"Don't worry." Roy went to the main door and pulled off a charred hunk of wood. He knelt next to Hughes and sketched an array in charcoal. "It's not like I'm a one trick pony." He slapped his palm to the array and transmuted the metal cuffs, which crumbled away. Hughes tried to sit up and failed. Roy got up and put his hands back on Maes' shoulders. "Stay down, Maes. We'll get you out. You just rest now."

"It hurts...everywhere," Hughes admitted.

Roy's eyes raked over his friend, seeing the bruises, the abrasions, the blisters over parts best not ever burnt and the ugly, red bullet wound and the swollen thigh around it. He slipped his coat off and draped it over Hughes' waist. "I'd let you wear it but..."

"You're skinny and short." Hughes smiled.

"I was about to use different adjectives." Roy gave Hughes the fish eye then glanced over to the Drachmaians who were still mopping up the rebels. "Major, how goes it?"

"You and your lieutenant can take your man out now, Colonel. We have things under control. Thank you for your assistance in this matter. I'll be by the hotel tonight to finish our business," Lisander said. "Hogarth, Foster, help the Colonel get his man to a truck."

Roy slipped an arm under Hughes' shoulder. "Just hang on a little longer for us, buddy." He glanced over his shoulder. "Hawkeye, you're with us." Roy lifted Hughes' shoulders up while the two Drachmaians supported the man's legs and torso. Hughes cried out once then his eyes rolled back as consciousness left him.

Hawkeye went ahead of them, guns drawn just in case they had missed a rebel or two. The men muscled Hughes into the bed of a canvas topped truck. Hawkeye jumped in the back and reached for the med-kit. She met Mustang's eyes. "You drive, sir. I'll tend to his injuries as best I can."

"Thank you, Hawkeye." Mustang turned to the two Drachmaians who were already heading back. "Thank you for your help, soldiers."

One of them raised a hand in acknowledgment and Roy slid behind the wheel. He tried to find a speed that satisfied his need to rush his friend to a hospital without catapulting Hughes and Hawkeye out of the bed. He was only just successful but once the orderlies bore Hughes away, Mustang allowed himself to relax.

He felt a hand in his as he paced the waiting room. He glanced over at Hawkeye who pulled him towards the chairs and thrust a cup into his hands. "Sit, sir. You're making everyone nervous." She gestured to the various people around the casualty ward who had worries of their own being treated.

He slumped down and sipped the tea. Roy grimaced. "Bitter."

"It's good for you," she insisted, sitting next to him.

"I notice you don't have any," he said wryly.

"I knew I'd need a free hand to deal with you," she replied, then plucked the cup out of his hand and took a swig before passing it back to him.

Roy snorted. "Is that insubordination I hear?"

"No, sir." She smiled faintly.

He returned it. "Thanks for all your help out there, Riza."

"You're welcome, sir." Her eyes canted towards the doors Maes had been taken through. "He'll be all right now."

Roy thought about the bullet wound and the redness and wondered if Maes wouldn't be staring an automail replacement in the face. Still, better that than death. "I know. You look exhausted. Go catch some sleep."

She eyed him sourly. "I look fresh as a daisy compared to you, sir. I think I'll stay."

Roy just rolled his shoulders and couldn't help noticing she was leaning against him. He eventually put the tea down as they waited on the surgeons, feeling Riza leaning more and more heavily on him, or was he leaning on her? The next thing he was aware of was a surgeon shaking him awake. His head was in Hawkeye's lap and her hand was resting against his cheek as she slept soundly sitting up. _How embarrassing! _Roy sat up, rubbing his eyes. When he moved, Hawkeye woke up with a start. "Doctor?"

"Your man will be fine, Colonel," the surgeon said, with a tired look in his eyes

"And his leg?" Roy asked, not sure he wanted to know.

"It was beginning to get infected but we've cleaned it up. I think we caught it in time. The bullet was a through and through of the muscle, missing the major nerves and arteries. He was a lucky man in that respect, though given what he just went through I'm not sure he'd agree." The surgeon looked grim. "The rest of it should heal without much problem, though that broken rib is going to bother him for a while."

"I'm glad it's not worse. Can I see him now?" Mustang stretched.

The surgeon wagged his head. "With the amount of pain killers we pumped into him and the ether we used to put him out for the surgery, he's going to be unconscious for some time. Why don't you two go home, get some rest and come back later. He might be awake then."

"That's okay, I can wait with him," Roy argued.

"I really don't think that's in your best interest," the surgeon said, his brow knitting.

Riza put a hand on Roy's wrist. "We'll come back, Doctor."

Roy sighed and nodded. "Thank you, Doctor."

Mustang followed Riza back to the truck. Neither of them spoke as she drove to the hotel. Both passed on the delectable-smelling lunch wafting from the dining hall as they trudged towards their room. Neither managed to get their boots off before collapsing on the bed and passing out.

X X X

Riza woke up, feeling crusty and still groggy. She knew a bath would make many things right in her world. Next to her, Mustang was still sleeping soundly in the strangest sleep posture she had ever seen, flat on his back, one leg bent so his foot was flat on the bed and one arm thrown over his nonexistent belly. Riza wanted to drag herself out of the bed immediately, to take herself away from temptation because the urge to reach down and see how he measured up to the handful test was overwhelming.

If he could resist his sexual urges, albeit not as well as he would like her to believe, so could she. If lust was all it were, she could walk out that door and get her transfer once they reached Central again. Why did he have to start babbling about falling? She knew what he meant. She felt it, too. She didn't have to wonder why they called it falling in love. Riza knew all too well. How could she be such an idiot to fall for a man like him? How could he have fallen for her? Even if she transferred now it was going to hurt.

She managed to get out of bed and picked up her book of poetry off the stand. Riza went into the bathroom and poked through all the supplies Dori had stocked the place with. No doubting this was meant for lovers. There was a basket of bath oils, all promising love and romance, and Roy had been right about one thing; the tub was built for two. Riza set out a thick towel and plush bath robe then drew the bath, dumping in some of the least dangerous sounding mix of roses, lavender and jasmine oils from the package that included two candles and some dried rose petals. Dori expected her customers to go all out.

Riza lit the candles and set them in the holders on the wide lip of the tub then stripped. She sank gratefully into the steaming water. Her battered body relaxed in slow measures as the rich scents wafted up around her. This would be a wonderful thing to share with someone. For an insane moment she thought about rousing Mustang. Instead, she wisely picked up her poetry and slipped down until her chin was touching water and began to read.

Riza had lost track of how long she was soaking when the door opened and Mustang stumbled in, his eyes more or less still closed. They flew open when he realized he didn't have the bathroom to himself. His hand froze on the door.

"Sir!" She couldn't even decide what to try and shield of herself with her book.

"Sorry!" he managed to rasp out but he made no attempt to leave. "I can't make myself move."

"Mustang!" she snapped, not even having bubbles to hide under.

He swung back out and Riza clamored out of the tub, tossing the robe around herself, still dripping wet. He needed the bathroom after all, not the time to be slow and dry off. She opened the door and tried to look nonchalant in spite of the vicious blush that had to go from ankle to eyebrow.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered then ducked into the bathroom.

She leaned against the wall, her head thumping back hard. Here she was dripping everywhere, smelling so sweet she barely recognized herself, mortified to be caught naked by her commanding officer and the only thing really on her mind was the throbbing between her legs and the desire to have him inside her. Worse, she wanted him in her life, even if she couldn't have him. She didn't want transferred out.

When he opened the door again, his hair was back to black. It was a definite improvement. She sidled past him since she needed to get back to her clothing. Roy reached out to her, touching her hair, his other hand resting on the array he had sketched onto the vanity. She watched in the mirror as her hair faded back to gold.

"Thanks," she murmured.

"Sorry again," he said, going for the door.

"Roy."

At the sound of his name, he turned and looked at her. Riza knew she was going to do something very stupid but her heart didn't much care. She had never felt like this about anyone. She grabbed his hands, shoving him back against the door, closing it with his body. Her mouth met his in a ravenous clash as she tore his shirt up out of where it was tucked into his trousers, her robe starting to slid down off her shoulders in the struggle.

He managed to evade her mouth for a moment, pushing on her bare shoulders. His hands felt hot against her slippery skin. Mustang began, "Hawkeye, we said-"

"Shut it, sir. I don't care." Hawkeye reached down cup him through the rough material of his uniform. His eyes widened as a little gasp escaped his lips. She felt his flesh stir as she fondled him.

His mouth clamped back over hers as her robe succumbed to gravity, puddling on the floor. The kiss was brutal, tongues fighting, exciting. She buried her fingers in his hair, drawing him in, melding into him.

She slipped free momentarily, swinging him away from the door. "Too much clothing," she growled, need bare in her eyes. Hawkeye groaned, seeing he still had on those damnable combat boots. She needed to sit him down, more easily accomplished than she would have guessed. Under the uniform, he was lean and light, easy to maneuver. His hand flailed for the wall as she shoved him down between the lit candles. He missed his support and slid right into the tub, nearly taking her with him. Riza stepped back, laughing hard. Roy looked up at her, opened mouthed for a moment before he started laughing too. His hand slapped the cooling water as he squirmed to right himself. "Stay," she ordered, kneeling so she could tug his boots off, still giggling.

"Riza, are you sure?"

She tossed one boot aside then stood, grabbing his ankles so she could yank his legs up. She looked down at him sprawled in the tub. There was so much she wanted to tell him, about the first time she ever saw him, the things she had been wanting to do, all her fears and joys but all she said was, "Do I look unsure?"

He shook his head and let her take off his other boot. Riza hauled him back out of the water, soaking the throw rug. As he tried to peel out of the wet wool, she decided the tub looked very inviting. She threw in some more oil and freshened the water until it was steaming. Roy dropped his sodden pants in the sink, snagged the neglected flower petals off the counter. He let them fall into the water, a smirk playing on his lips. Getting back into the tub was more sedate, less dangerous.

X X X

The love play had moved at some point from the tub to the bedroom. Riza stroked his damp hair, plucking stray rose petals from it. She drew him up over her body, her lips meeting his in a long slow kiss. She wrapped tight around him. "Ready or not, I think we're in love," she whispered.

"Free fall," he replied, his fingers brushing over the sensitized skin of her arm. "Only we didn't crash."

"We learned to fly," she finished for him, kissing him again.

Roy pulled away from her just long enough to ease the prophylactic off and toss it in the trash. He snuggled back into her arms. "Don't have any more of those. Wasn't expecting this on a mission."

"Betting Dori stocks them in this hotel," Riza smiled. "If not, then it'll be my turn to show you what I can do with my mouth."

He grinned. "Either way, I want to learn that." Roy moved in for another kiss but froze hearing a knock on the door.

"Excuse me, sir, ma'am. Ms. Dori sent me up. Major Ferrick is here. Ms. Dori said you'd know why," someone called through the door.

"Oh, damn! Tell the major to give me a few minutes and I'll be down!" Roy called back. He gave Riza a stricken look. "I forgot all about the debriefing."

She ran a hand over his cheek. "I'll go with you and I know you'll probably want to go to the hospital too."

"I wanted to be there when Maes woke up but then I got incredibly distracted." He smiled at her.

Riza kissed him. "I'll let you go to the hospital by yourself. I'm sure Hughes would be grateful."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." He kissed her and rolled out of bed. "I'd rather he didn't..."

"Know about us?" She couldn't quite keep the disappointed look off her face.

"Oh, he already knows how I feel. I'd just rather not have him concentrating on that or thinking that's what I was concentrating on while he was being tortured." A hint of self recrimination snuck into his voice.

She got up, putting her arms around him. "You weren't."

"There were stray thoughts of you," he said, covering her hand with his. "I wish we didn't have to hide this, you know that, right?"

She kissed his shoulder blade. "I do. And I know why we have to. I don't mind if Hughes knows because I know you trust him not to hurt us with this."

Roy turned in her arms. "He would never hurt us."

"I know. We'd better get downstairs before the Major sends out another search party for us." She smiled.

Roy laughed and let her slide past him into the bathroom to freshen up.

TBC


	7. Tying Threads

Chapter Seven

Maes wished he hadn't awoken. The pain would just be waiting for him but somehow it didn't seem so bad. His mind felt like it was wrapped in wet wool, coherent thoughts seeming so far away. Slowly he remembered he wasn't a prisoner any longer and the pain wasn't so bad because he had been obviously doped past his eyeballs with painkillers. Maes wanted to see his leg, half afraid that when he lifted the blankets, he'd be faced with a stump. He couldn't find the strength to move, let alone pull back the covers.

He tried to shift, groaning a bit as agony rippled through in spite of the medication. Maes squinted at a dark shape in a chair. Roy, had to be. He was the only man Maes knew who could curl up and sleep like that; more tom cat than human sometimes, Hughes would swear to it. "Roy," he called hoarsely.

Roy startled awake, almost pitching out of the chair. "Maes! Hey, there you are. Need me to get a doctor? You in pain?"

Maes managed a smile, listening to his friend fret, though it worried him a bit. Roy was usually more controlled that this. "I can't even tell. It feels like I'm floating above the bed."

"Oh, they gave you the good stuff. I should have signed up for some." Roy grinned, dragging the chair closer to the bedside. He knocked over the little paper bag sitting next to the chair leg.

"That's all we need. A man who makes fire getting all high and stupid." Maes tried to lift his arms again and scarcely managed. "I can barely move."

"You don't need to. It's all over with. You just need to relax and heal up." Roy leaned over and tapped Maes hand.

"I didn't think..." Maes swallowed hard, feeling the swell of emotion threatening to consume him. It seemed too dream-like for him to have actually been saved.

"You doubted I would come?" Roy sounded surprised as he sat up straighter.

"They told me...thought you might be dead." Maes licked his lips, shuddering. "The leg..."

"Doc says it'll heal up fine. You'll be in one piece, no thanks to those bastards."

"They had..." Maes hiccuped, swallowing his cries. He managed to get his arms up over his face, trying to hide his tears. "Car battery."

"Son of a bitch," Roy growled, propelling himself out of the chair to pace the room like the cat he so much resembled. "Maes, I'm so sorry. I should have been faster, better." Roy's eyes seemed to disappear in his blurry face. Maes could imagine the malevolent slits of ebony, however.

"I betrayed you," Hughes said, a low moan rippling out of him. He tried to turn away and failed.

Roy was back at his bed side, reaching for him. Maes flinched away. "Oh, no, Maes, you didn't."

Maes bobbed his head frantically. "I did. I didn't mean to. I told them..." Maes broke off, sobbing. "They knew you are the leader because of me."

"It's not your fault, Maes. And it wasn't anything they couldn't have figured out on their own from the things I did. I think someone betrayed us to start with. They probably always knew who I was," Roy said softly, going back to his anxious pacing of the room. "They hurt you, buddy. They hurt you bad. I don't blame you."

"They hurt me so much, Roy." Maes ignored his pain, rolling onto his side, curling up tightly. His leg screamed past the veil of the painkillers. "I didn't want to tell them...the bitch, she..."

Roy's pacing ceased as he came to rest next to Maes on the bed. "You should lay flat, Maes."

Maes didn't answer, curling tighter, unable to stem the flow of his tears. The pain of his wracking lamentations blinded him. He jumped, feeling Roy's hands on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Maes. I tried to find you faster. I really did." Roy's hand tightened gently. "I got attacked by some pissed off village drunks who wanted to rape Hawkeye...or me, maybe both of us, not really sure."

"Only you, Roy," Maes said, his teeth chattering from his emotions. Leave it to Roy to find the most trouble possible. "And then it rained. I knew...I broke then. I told them..."

"I don't blame you." Roy's hand stroked Maes' arm. "Don't think on it a moment more."

Maes flopped back over, his hand questing for Roy's biceps. He caught on, pulling himself up using Roy as his anchor. Tear filled his citrine eyes. Maes clung to his friend. Roy's arms tightened around him.

"You're safe now and that's all anyone cares about," Roy promised him. "We'll get you back home to that cute girl of yours and everything will be better then."

Maes said nothing. The emotions were too raw for him to form words. He felt wasted by the time the tears stopped. He trembled uncontrollably against Roy, his wet face tucked against the smaller man's neck. Why did his friend smell like roses? "Now I know what you felt like...so embarrassed about coming apart those times right after you got back from Ishbal."

"You told me there was nothing to be embarrassed about," Roy said, rubbing Maes' back like Hughes had done for him during those first suicidal weeks after leaving the desert.

"There isn't...for you or me but saying it doesn't help, does it?" Maes ground the heel of his hand against his eyes.

"Not really," Roy replied regretfully. Maes sat back a little and Roy handed him his handkerchief. Maes wiped his face. "If it cheers you up, you can think about me coming apart like this in front of Alex Louis."

A rough bark of laughter bubbled out of Maes. "That couldn't have done the ego much good."

Roy shrugged. "Two minutes before that, I had my gun in my mouth. I think Armstrong preferred the crying jag."

"You're not allowed to leave us like that. You promised," Maes reminded him, dabbing at his eyes again. The handkerchief carried the faint scent of roses...no, it was Roy who smelled like a flower. He was more sure of it now.

"The thing with Armstrong was before I made the promise," Roy said, turning his head.

Normally Maes would be upset by that, knowing that deep down there were self-destructive thoughts boiling around in Roy's mind. However, his eyes caught on a mark on Roy's neck. He squinted at it and all his frustrations and pain surfaced in one punch to Roy's jaw, bowling the smaller man off his perch on the side of the bed.

Roy managed to catch himself before he hit ground. He spun back around, rubbing his jaw. "What the hell was that for?"

"You screwed her!" Maes roared, shaking his fist, surprised at the sudden store of energy he found.

"What? No!" Roy held his hands out in front of him.

"Liar! You're not wearing your blues, you idiot, no high collars. I can see the sucker bite on your neck." Maes glowered at him.

Roy touched his voice box. "Oh, damn."

Maes wanted to get up and thrash him soundly but his spurt of energy died. "Yeah, damn. I'm being held captive and you-"

"No! Never! I would never do that to you," Roy snapped back, his eyes angry slits. "It was tonight, not until we knew you were safe."

"What? It was your way of celebrating my rescue?" Maes asked, more wryly than bitterly. This was Roy all over, foolish, passionate and needing a handler at all times or he'd get himself in trouble.

"Sort of." Roy flopped down in the chair, running his hand through his hair. "We're messed up bad."

Maes squinted, trying to resolve the blur of Roy's face into helpful information as far as his friend's mental state. "You did tell me you were falling."

Roy covered his face. "It wasn't just me."

"Damn." Maes pressed back into the mattress. "How could she fall in love with you?"

"I think I should be offended," Roy said, dropping his hands.

Maes tugged up his blanket. "What are you two going to do?"

"We don't know yet. Obviously we have to keep it very quiet but...Maes," Roy's eyes were as wide as Maes had ever seen them. "I've never felt like this."

Maes saw the fear in his friend's eyes. "You looked scared to death. Love isn't supposed to make you afraid, Roy."

Roy snorted. "I know that. I'm not afraid of that...well, not entirely. You know what could happen if we get caught."

Maes nodded. "You're in deep now, Roy boy. What are we going to do with you?"

"Keep me from the people out to hurt us." Roy grimaced. "And there has to be someone, doesn't there? This was no random attack. Gran sounded impressed that I got you back, though. And the Drachmaian military helped out and the peace treaty is intact, which is better than Gran thought I'd manage."

"It wasn't random at all. They told me I was betrayed by my own people. A woman," Maes said, musingly, trying to clear the cobwebs from his brain. It was easier to do now that the pain was coming back. The drugs must be leaving his system.

Roy's thin eyebrows knitted together. "A woman?"

"That's all I learned, a woman. I'll assume she's in the military," Maes replied.

"You don't think Riza..." Roy's face lost color.

"Do you?" Maes shot back and was surprised that Roy seemed to consider the possibility.

"She was quick to kill any of the rebels...but no, I don't think so. She didn't know our route that day or the vehicle we were given or even who was coming as part of this expedition. I never told her. She wouldn't have known until she got on the train," Roy replied, a little bit of relief in his voice.

"I didn't really think it was her. I don't even know her. Why would she want to hurt me?" Maes shook his head. "It's probably someone higher up."

"That was my thought," Roy said.

Maes rubbed his swollen eyes. "I've been thinking, Roy, even before this, about transferring to investigations. Mysteries intrigue me. This attack, the subterfuge, makes me want that more than ever before."

Roy's lips drew down. "I'd hate to lose you off my team but...you would do good there. You have the mind for it, Maes. It might be for the best. If Gran or someone thinks we're too close of friends, he'd probably transfer you away anyhow. If you requested the transfer...yes, that could be very good indeed."

"Glad you think so, buddy. You'll have enough trouble pretending to not be close to Hawkeye. You don't need to have to worry about having two such games to play within your own cadre," Maes replied as a nurse came in.

"Agreed," Roy said.

The nurse gave Mustang a critical look. "Visiting hours are long since over, sir. I need to give Major Hughes his pain medication. You can come back tomorrow."

Roy got up and patted Maes' shoulder. He put a card with a phone number on the table. "Call me if you need me, buddy. Nurse, he's lost his glasses. Tomorrow someone should check into getting him a new pair."

"I'll leave the doctor a note, sir," she replied.

"Good night, Maes," Roy said, taking a small bag off the floor near where the chair first stood.

"I'd say sleep tight but I can guess what's in that bag. There's not going to be any sleeping, is there?" Maes rolled his eyes.

"Oh, eventually I'll tire out," Roy laughed and waved as he headed out the door.

"That man really is an alley cat," Maes told the nurse as she injected his arm with something that burned.

"I've found that to be true of most men," she replied cheerily then tucked him in.

Maes was asleep again before she left the room.

X X X

Regiene stalked across the safe zone of the target field. She didn't even look at all the things Basque had destroyed. "I don't have to ask why you called me here. Those Drachmaian idiots failed, didn't they?"

Gran's thick mustache twitched as he scowled. "Not only did they fail, the upper Brass is going to award Mustang, Hawkeye, and Hughes medals when they get back to Central. It was a monumental waste of time."

She put a hand on his arm. "Apparently so and if they suspect they were set up..."

"They'll never trace it back to us." Gran's eyes shifted back to the few targets that were still standing.

"That's at least a plus. I suppose you were right about us requiring patience. They'll screw up sooner or later. We can assure it." Regiene shook her head, her strawberry blond hair flopping into her eyes. "I'm shocked Mustang fought so hard just to get Hughes back. He put out a massive effort. Are you sure they're merely friends, Basque?"

Gran's thick brow knitted up. "What do you mean?"

"That Hughes has Mustang biting the pillows every night." Regiene's lips pulled into a harsh line.

Gran chuckled lowly, apparently amused by the idea. "I haven't heard any rumors, though I suppose Mustang's lady killer reputation could be so much smoke."

"I always thought so. I mean, look at the little thing, all narrow hips, delicate hands and smooth face. He doesn't even look like a man should." Regiene snorted. "What woman would want something that pretty?"

"And we both know he weeps like a girl. We saw him on the train ride back from Ishbal. Pathetic." Gran toyed with the ends of his mustache again. "Probably why Armstrong was covering for him, Mustang did him a few oral favors. You may be right, Regiene. It would explain Mustang's meteoric rise in rank."

"Knowing which cock to suck doesn't have to work just for women, Basque." Regiene scowled. "We underestimated their relationship."

"We might be best to leave them alone for now and concentrate on keeping Lab Five a secret," Basque replied.

The tip of Regiene's tongue traced her lips. "Patience, I think you said. We need patience."

"Eventually we'll get them," Basque said. "Even if it takes years."

"I'm not going anywhere." She smiled at him.

He returned it. "Care to destroy something?" He gestured to the field.

She touched the array she wore as an amulet. "It would make me feel so much better."

Basque laughed and let her select a target to suck all the moisture from.

X X X

Roy made sure he wasn't standing too close to Hawkeye in the military hospital room. He knew he could trust Maes, of course, but who knew who might be looking in. He was exhausted beyond words and Hawkeye didn't look much better. At least this time she left the sucker bites in places he could easily cover and he was as considerate of her. His privates felt a little battered and his whole body well used and he couldn't be more glad of it.

"Do you really want the responsibility for looking after this idiot?" Maes asked Hawkeye.

She smiled, her brown eyes cutting towards Mustang. "I think it's in my job description, sir."

"Lucky you. I'd run if I were you," Hughes shot back.

"You're still here, keeping an eye out for him," Hawkeye reminded him.

"We're both masochists," Hughes replied.

"You're hurting my feelings, both of you." Roy pouted at them and Hawkeye came over and flicked his bottom lip.

"Put that away. No one feels sorry for you, sir."

Maes laughed. "I like you, Hawkeye. You're exactly what he needs." His eyes narrowed. "I'll do what I can when we get home to help you be just that without anyone catching on."

Roy cleared his throat. "Speaking of that, the doctor said you should be well enough to travel on the train by tomorrow. He'll give you pain killers enough to make it home and the doctors in Central can take over until that bullet wound is all healed up. Maybe they'll have your glasses for you by the end of the day."

Maes rubbed the bridge of his nose. "That would be great. I'm tired of looking at faceless blobs."

Roy nodded. "We'll all need sharp eyes once we get home. Someone tried to hurt us. They might try again."

"I think there's no might about it," Maes said then changed the subject. "Hawkeye, you need to meet my girlfriend, Gracia. She's new in town and could use another lady friend. That way when I invite that goofball over for dinner, she can have a friend of her own to talk to."

Riza smiled and Roy listened to them making plans that would in fact be shields so he and Riza could steal time together without the military being the wiser. He hated hiding. He knew it was needed. Someone was definitely out to get him but when one tried to climb the ladder of command that tended to go with the territory. He would have to be careful. Roy decided he was more than up to the task.

FINI


End file.
